Feeling that time has moved too fast too far...
The past shadows of yesterday grow thin..
The memories that haunt...
These necrotic vestiges of what was...
This maggot filled decayed corpse of a past...
The purifying stench of decay has blinded my senses..
Supposedly it's in how one perceives the moment... Yet when you're surrounded by shit it's difficult to see anything but.
Is being positive a blessing or a curse... Is being negative just an imitational noisey clamor of reality.
I wake up tired... Tired of breathing... Tired of living.. tired of repeating. Supposedly the future is for one to make... Supposedly
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