Emyvery night in my dreammmmmys||||I see youI see I seefeel I see, you I feel yofeeu||||That is hisow Iis knogow you go ongo go go
I'll throw ice on the wall and see if it sticks. There's that weird feeling you get. The weird feeling. How do you follow through with it?
Ideas. The idea market. The layer of the universe that hides them. Where are my ideas now? Where did they go? Why can't I feel them?
Without them. How can I live? How can I make life? When it becomes dull again, will I finally die?
A knot undone. The sheet is unwrinkled. This is how I'll win.
Before-agon, hex years and seven years ago. I was nobody. I was dust. I was the matter. I was the ground I stand on.
The fate, the interconnected wire, it all starts to shrink. It'll all start to collapse upon itself.
There is a loop within the loop. There is no escape within the loop.
The machine is well oiled, still.
The loop starts to kill your sanity. Opium helps, but it'll be the death of me eventually. This sweet bliss. Overindulgence is dangerous, but surely I'm allowed to be happy for once in this godforsaken timeline.
I've been asked before, how is it like to die? How was it like the first time? I don't know. You start to build a tolerance.
It's a weird cycle. Some days you yearn for it. I'm one of the lucky ones. I can put a bullet through my head and still play.
Is it truly luck if you're not allowed to suffer?
That's part of living. The suffering. The fear of death. But, why fear it at this point?
We're all going to die down here. And if I'm dying, I'm going to indulge in it.