i am stuck in the bowels of a rusty machine tortured by the visions of what could have been indulging myself in reading sad fairytales not to feel the pain, not to hear my own wails
we cry over dead 2-dimensional girls 'cause emperors and gods - they shine no more they turned out to be husk of the evolution's seed, illusions to be slayed with all their breed
everything will be as it was meant to be so i just watch the waves washing over me akrasia is not just philosophical crap it's everyday feeling of being entrapped
hopelessly entrapped between life and death always alone in the corpsebag of flesh we're all fairies, but with broken wings chasing false happiness that blind nature brings
we're both just cogwheels, we're pretty much the same just two broken links in this chain of pain the chain, forged by life itself to command and constrain
the meaning of life is in every our cell for million years it was hiding so well now we have found it, but it still doesn't help to quench our hell