is it love that guides you or control? a sense of order wronged by fate or tears in the eyes of those you cherish? why does anyone write theory? why do we leave behind what we leave behind?
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i dunno, man. sometimes catharsis is lying to you. sometimes it's just chemicals making you feel like making a point and having it land is accomplishing anything. we're lizards sunning ourselves on a rock. what distinction ought there be between the righteous and the damned?
anyway confidential to T - i put those ideas in your head however many hands or reblogs removed and I was wrong. The world that made me is dead and the culture I was spitting bile at is less than a memory. I hope you're at peace out there, or can be. It'd be a shame if this had to be all there was
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