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According to most bystanders, bad people deserve bad futures because they make bad decisions. Good people deserve good futures because they make good decisions. Bad, bad, bad. Good, good, good.
People tell me that I'm a good person because they don't know me. They don't know the thoughts passing through my mind that I force myself to silence and push to the dark bottom of my head. They don't know that I manipulate them into believing things I want them to believe. They just don't know me.
In order for them to consider me a bad person, how many bad decisions would I have to make? How many decisions does anyone have to make to be a bad person? Of all the terrible things one can do, different people think of them as different degrees of evil – bad to worse to absolutely fucking inhuman.
Until today, I believed that everything happened for a reason. Both good and bad people die for a reason; however, I could never come up with good enough reasons to justify one's death, whether I thought of them as a good person or not.
Death is tricky. Death takes the lives of good people, such as this guy I've talked to, for no apparent reason.
I don't understand, and it makes me angry. He was a good person, but his brother believed he was a bad person so he had to kill my friend.
I could justify my logic behind my thoughts of Lawrence, and he could do the same.
But who deserves to be stabbed to death by a family member? How could Lawrence's brother justify that?

R.I.P. Lawrence Strawbridge and Tyra Shannon.
8.2.16

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