For the past few weeks, I have felt severely out of place and inadhesive to anything worthwhile. My qualitative wist has been snared into an inaccessible container. And I feel like an upside pineapple cake... structured immensely dysfunctional and tasting utterly horrid. My compelling significance is rendered useless, and every immaculate principle I have strived to advocate has collapsed in on itself through a redundant process of ingenuine innovation. I need no longer this shell of a body to displace any value, but a dissipated nebula of which exists for a sole purpose of isolation...
To cradle the nights,
And commune in binary,
To simmer faith,
And channel supernatural evidence that your god cannot provide.
I am a catalyst of which decides death and what remains. Truth be told, that there is more truth to than what you believe, regardless of meaning. I sign this doctrine in peace and goodnight, for I laminate its soul in divine proportions to its natural medium. Simply put... this very piece will destroy itself and burns its meaning like everything's future... and I mean everything.
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