Tell me who the hell are you?
What I can't see I can sense.
(stumbling, bleeding) What?
Inside of you looms a simmering storm of hatred and rage, but perhaps what I'm actually sensing is sadness. It's as if... you've never once been loved by anyone; it's as if... you're just like me.
You trying to say you can sense my moves before they even happen? What a load of crap!!
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