i’m nothing to pity. just know myself.
not sure if docile is the term. some shit changes when you die. some doesn’t.
bullshit.
i don’t like apologies. you shouldn’t give a shit about what you say to me. i’m the one who’s dead. you’re acting like i have shit over you and it’s pitiful. you won. respect your victory by not bowing to my dead ass.
my body died, not my soul. or whatever other gay shit there is to say about it.