Have you ever thought you were in the belly of the beast only to find yourself actually in the belly of the beast? Well, that feeling, right? Do you know what I mean? Cooking inside some unhealthy brew stressed to the max at every single level of being - a cold, dead skyscraper hollow in its metallic darkness:
Lights Out, man, Lights Out.
This feeling?
Ringing any bells, anyone? Trying so hard not to come apart at the seams then finally giving up saying fuck it, man, I just don’t have the strength to keep it together - BUT finding then that WTF you evidently cannot come apart at the seams, only continue cooking down this self loathing poison inside ... that this cosmic carny hand running the ride ain't gonna stop it even if you beg and cry? That feeling there
Right
There.
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