| torn_apart | ||
| counterentity |
Each time I think of the sweet bliss and peace of gentle Death, I think of what the future could hold and what new doors could be opened. Each time I feel too tired to go on, I think of the morning to come and what new adventures there may be. Each time I look back, I kick myself for having wondered what could have been. It's like living in betwen dimensions, never truly a part of either and yet enveloped by both. Not being able to taste the sweet fruits of either yet bearing the pains of both. |
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| x | this anxiety isn't fair to my beer | 030806 |
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| oldephebe |
*counterentity nicely said |
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