Running around in my head. I wish great ill of all those whom have done it to me. All those who in smug defiance of my fellow humanity have sought to bring me low. But I cannot do it them myself. Instead I must never truly sleep, but fear them rightly their black hearts; their hatred minds. Suffer their abuse gracefully and will with all my self-respect their suffering equally that which they’ve inflicted on me. For vengeance is a vice. Yet patience, well we all know what patience is. If only we have some.