"your heart is dead. it is not just black and putrid anymore, its dead. and vile thing that you are you can still get it to pump blood in your should be dead body - while you continue to live, dead-er than ever , yet you live . live the way people who really live live. you should have been dead now. why the fuck do you still live ? "
it was so passionate - it shocked me . i felt the force of his lystrine breath on my face , as he decided that he could infact shake me into being dead. i looked into his eyes , and then he looked at me -his mouth , growing smaller and smaller by the second .
"you want to laugh at me for using the word dead-er now , dont you ?"
it did the trick - and away i went , zooming into the world of condescending laughter - "hey, dont give me those black-er looks , they will not make me any dead-er."
he turned to go , but in that one stroke of poetic justice , he looked back at me , and said - "i loathe you . "
as he left , i realised , i loath-ed him right back- FUCK , LOATHED WAS A WORD. i had wanted to make it grammaticaly incorrect and funny - it came out right , anyhow.
damn you english honours !