BY indefiniteloop

“I feel this sudden urge to become more of a cynic - much, much more than usual; to strip away more people from my immediate zoo of a congress. An urge to let myself sink, more into this cold chasm of solitude; where it only gets ever more colder. Where my bones are nothing but a reflection of frosted icicles, hanging from that out of reach ceiling. Where the chill, it permeates every molecule of my breath. I feel this appetising craving to leave almost everyone, and everything behind; to douse myself in this numbingly healing, frosty freeze because, somewhere in the varied translations of those six degrees that separate us, I’ve lost the knowledge of how warmth feels; lost all the philosophy, awareness, and the ability to relate to the Sun. Lol. The only beings that satiates me, in any manner of the word, and world are the Moon, and the far forged Stars; they lend some semblance of a reality to the illusions, and dreams that of my subsistence; they, more often than not, fulfil the roles of my tribesmen; roles of my wingmen. They often stare back me, twinkling to lighten my path to wherever it may lead. And this light, I understand. And this light, I can relate to. And this love, of the Universe, I feel the most; it connects me with everyone, and everything. And this light, this very light of Darkness, photosynthesises my efferently errant soul.” -

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