The sprawling corporate tool, the false pretense destroys the inner sanctity. In his own personal palace crumbling with the rest of it. Not good enough. Slicked back afraid no one can comprehend the magnitude and pure scale of ból. Incessant staring, incessant staring, incessant staring. In the name of god, gravity over death, nothing is sacred, everything is broken. I am broken, for he is broken. Torn apart. Almost dead. Worth is less. No one can comprehend the magnitude and pure scale of verletzt. Stranded by the wrists, hanging. Dwindling. Imagine a man with his wrists attached to a ceiling fan, with cement shoes. Activating the ceiling fan is despicable and abhorrent, but the beauty shines through. Beauty knows no pain. Beauty covers the pain of the moment. Encompass Dancing Shiva through and through, Dancing Shiva is guidance. Encephalic dissociation at the route. What the hell is wrong. Omit me. Chasing the glorification, what he wants is not healthy he knows. Self gratification taking a non existent approach. Back seat. Take the back ******* seat. It’s for others. Its all for ******* others. He is broken where it is impossible to fix. Supplement a camera, feed the anxiety and take away the comfort. Supplement the ******* camera, take away the innocence. ADD THE INNOCENCE. Where is this where am I. What am I. How am I. Incoherent rambling to focus on a main theme. Incoherent rambling to focus on a main theme? Provide reason for disinterest; the enormous mouth roaring into his ear, roaring, flaring, decomposing any sense of worth. It’s alright. Raskolnikov would be jealous of his malcontentedness.