reality struck down like lightening. I see, i’m not the only one fighting. Things that were once thought become real as the strike of the clock comes nearer and nearer. Leaving a place can surround you with fear. As the clock dims down on these last few moments, i lose sense of the true meaning of hours and minutes. What are you going to do? can you stand up when called forth to eat this food for thought? or will you remain silent, a drought of words consuming your precious life crops.
"Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself"Ask me anything
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