DaKiNgAdAbLiNg

Drugs fuel an empty rage.
Confusion locks hard in the mainframe.
Infection injects a sterile sense of obscurity.
These burnt brains have no means of redemption.
I am broken.

So. Fucking. Disappointed.

So. Fucking. Disappointed.

Maybe it's time to reevaluate my priorities.

I wish I could convince myself that there was some all-encompassing holy specter that consumed everything with it's infinitley dispersed love and ommited all to an afterlife of bliss of eternal duration but I can't. Yet, doesn't the mere existence of anything instill enough wonderous catharsis within your soul to subdue any bleak apathetic nihilism that may plague you? Of course, even in the wake of this revelatory wondorous magnitude the uncertainty of death still persists.