Oh, why should nature build so foul a den, Unless the gods delight in tragedies?
I will become, have become, a creature unstirred by history, no longer moved by the present, just hungry, blind and at long last filled of mindless wrath.
the road is life.
Les jeux sont faits. Nous sommes ******** style="color: crimson">And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"
Little solace comes to those who grieve when thoughts keep drifting as walls keep shifting and this great blue world of ours seems a house of leaves moments before the wind.
HELLO FRIENDS.
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No one behind, no one ahead. The path the ancients cleared has closed. And the other path, everyone's path, Easy and wide, goes nowhere. I am alone and find my way.
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Haha.
haha.