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8:36 p.m. - 2003-10-30
malignant

the sky is larger overhead than my mind will allow and i burrow into the warm and crumbling earth to escape the relentless machines. the smell of burning metal and chemical smoke and a memory of something softer, something harder to reach, impossible to understand, keep my mind trapped. circling. trying to find the only way out, failing to understand the meaning of the walls i keep finding.

there is no way of knowing whether the walls are built or grown or constantly shifting, whether i am digging in circles or discovering anything new. if there is anything new. if i am only destroying my self. wings long forgotten, crumpled and buried under the refuse of an endless hunt. the dogs are at my heels and the sound their claws make on the rough brick keeps me awake. something wet drips overhead, malignant, cold, caustic. puddles around my feet. seeps into every crack.

there is a way out of this. somewhere. somehow.

 

 

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