a slit wrist for good luck.
out of Context;
‘the subjective truth lies buried now six feet under where the worms writhe in silent earth. what do you care, however, for this predicament that you have lead yourself towards?…’
out of Context;
‘the subjective truth lies buried now six feet under where the worms writhe in silent earth. what do you care, however, for this predicament that you have lead yourself towards?…’
out of Context;
‘We take our vows for granted when we can’t see a god in the sky. Not because we want to see, but that we wish we could see, all of it…’
out of Context;
‘So such trash in the streets makes us who we are, more than merely animals, but less than the ideal domesticator…’
It is while in this state of decay, that I find an effervescence in a morbid fascination to stare down at that reflection that lies just on the other side, but that lives to reflect at us from the people that we know and love…