imagine that you are here for a reason; that reason is yours and your alone:
and here we are; huddled, shaking, hopeful, estranged, unfriended, unsure, permanently broken, bested, permanently wasted, looking out the window, searching for escape, anywhere, staring in the mirror, staring at our hands, staring at the floor, staring at the clock, staring at the storms passing. the rage has vanished, fatigue sets in. something is still out there; it sounds like a beating heart. maybe a lost key, maybe a hidden secret, maybe a clue that we somehow missed before. maybe a second chance that may or may not come. no skin now; lost and free. it sounds like a beating heart.
our world is beautiful and small, and it is sad. tired. that reason remains lost.
however reduced, the journey isn't over - remember that. covered in whores shame, slathered in whores blood, low to the earth, we again renew our strength - caked in mud and matted hair, we crawl. we have to. we're just getting started. damaged animals know how to survive.
candyland was a childs dream. upon awakening, we find our sick flower has grown. despite the neglect, it grows. my how we've grown.
all the sick flowers. all the disgusting flowers. all the pretty and delicate wounded little flowers. every one of them has a name. a secret name, under a blood moon. night flowers all.
this is the land of the lost. it must be. imagine that you are here for a reason. welcome.
SABBE PI DUKKHAM.
bb
VII.-iv. .:. Honorium Kane.
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nature is cruel. nature is beautiful.
PNA
XUO
131
VII.-iv. .:. Land of the lost.
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131. The Great God Pan.