Nothing stays the same

Chapter tweleve

The appointment with the therapist, how utterly delightful newness, she didn't get declared insane—something entering grimly worse has conspired, she met Her!
"We can't have butchering knives in the therapy room anymore, it's unsafe." Ling Sung Jiao remarked, "I wasn't aware of such a thing."
He isn't aware of many things, including normal people. To be fair, one didn't think they were real, merely a myth, like democracy and freedom of speech without ending up with a bullet to the head.
"Yes, she also apparently thinks my coffee addiction is heavily bound to my possible spouts of internal madness." Zheng Peng replied, "Whatever that bloody ducking means."
Entering into the room, "Zheng Peng, I thought it would be good if you have your sister here, to work out your kinship issues."
Call a fucking morgue, a shit show right about now would be sorely entreating, better than dealing with HER lying self-empowered god-complexed plastic bags of sadness mixed with drips of insanity and despair, in bloody goat's guts.
"Oh, that's why he brought the butcher's knife." Zheng Peng remarked, "How anti-clastic."
Encouraging violence, how low can someone become, answer this—when they haven't had their morning cup of depression in a nice coffee with heavy whip cream and a boatload of chicle sprinkles.
"She can't harm anything else." Ling Sung Jiao spoke, "Peng Peng has no shame, pride, or any dignity whatsoever. It's so bad, his clothes are black and white in style, like a raging depressed P.I. In La Noire."
The therapist didn't find The bumbling blokes' sense of humor, instead noted it as a possible sign of definitively, whatever the fuck they mean.
"Ah, how entertaining." Zheng Ping replied, "What exactly has caused my brother to be here in the first place?"
This ragging bitch should've been slipped into harsh concrete, sacked upon the head—deep into the shallows—rotting in Mike's deep waters. But that would make so much blood, that no one wanted upon themselves.
"My 'lack of happiness and utter desire to 'expose the world's darker workings' and possibly commit 'murder' is considered a high-risk safety concern as well." Zheng Peng remarked, "He, is my supporting buddy, whatever that means."
To put it lightly, they suspect itself is a ticking time bomb that will explode at any time and turn into a ragging physical hazard and possibly crazed addiction with no boundaries and common sense—there's enough on the street as it is.
"A corrupt businessman runs a corrupt government." Ling Sung Jiao remarked, "Peng Peng always says that while reading the paper."
Influence can benefit in ten different forms, this is an example of someone slowly losing their original self of being and utterly morphing into something else—like children entering school, then popping out in the adult world, boring, used up and rotten clay figures barely fixed together with cheap school glue.
"You've imported, I'm high—not impressed with you at all." Zheng Peng commented, "Don't think too much of yourself."
The cold dead silence was clear in the room, as the bubbling sounds lessened the tension. As the gripping feelings, we're swelling clearly as suddenly a light clang came sounding through.
"In any case, why exactly do you despise her? Your sister anyways?" The therapist inquired.
Zheng Peng's cold eyes glared, as his lips turned into a darker grimmer sweet smile, "Would you like women, who killed your own mother, in cold blood?"