I don’t like liars, cheaters, thieves, and hypocrites.
I’m okay with murderers though. I’m not sure if it’s because we became friends before they told me their deeds or because they killed for reasons I found to be just, but I’m okay with that. I sleep soundly when they’re in my house possibly because I think any intruder will find themselves in a pile of shit should they break into a house with a killer on the sofa.
I imagine most people would call me crazy.
But the insane don’t recognize insanity, and if they do, I doubt they condemn it. It’s just a little flair to a fucking boring life.
Such is my way of thinking.