"Bleak... all around me, weak... listening, incomplete. I am not a dog, but I'm the one you're dogging. I am in a buried kennel, I have never felt so vital... Someone find me please, losing all reserve..." -Purity
What matters now is escaping a prison, one that entraps my sense of understanding input. Darkness surrounding most, if not all of my options, life ain't peachy. Is it me? Is it more? Is it my own body striking out against the shell that it is? Why do I claw at walls the same color as the light that casts in my cell, as if it helps to illuminate in the darkness as opposed to the actuality of it highlighting said bleak prospects. The candle that hope and effort would normally be still requires a spark, a spark necessary for survival as the surrounding darkness itself tries to creep into a brain with gates that could be open or closed at any time. How many others have died in this false asylum in this state, in this way? I do not know but is there a reason to want to? I can hear wandering husks of their former selves roam the halls, possibly more free than I, but even more crippled. They do not understand, they cannot understand, so instead they misinterpret. I know his place is taking control of me... I can feel their sinewy tendrils in my veins... I may not be the first, I will not be the last but I must escape. Confusion, is destroying what remains trapped here within, while other conditions take what is left.
Creeping finality, so soft, so powerful, at its most pure...
Regardless, escape is still possible... Riding atop a beheaded horse.
- "Nothing is real but fear now."
"Do you know that life is ending?
As we go, the dots connecting,
We had our chance to save the garden,
As it dies, my souls will harden..."
-Serj Tankian Feed Us
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