chunks of flommus
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Tristitia Languorem
long lost lilac lakes
The wretchedness of there to be no future nor history make me drown in your honey The sugary purple nectar flows in
heart-shaped knobs
People find communality in saying everyone is alone, so you would end up being very alone saying there is always communality. Likewise,
kubrick said ‘maybe a benign despot’
I DON’T WANT TO BE ELECTEEEEED DON’T WANT TO BE ELECTEEEED NOT BOTHERING TO BE ELECTEEEEED FUCK THE NATION, FUCK LOUISIANA FUCK
the healing of our malign
When you finally become so insane that you scratch and tear the heart out of every moral fibre of this society, or
neither squares nor cubes
Current fiction is at an end. Motion Picture or novels alike – The Matrix and In the Mouth of Madness and Dark