The Simplicity Of Insanity

Gentle sounds of rain become the thunderous hoof beats of a billion stampeding horses. Seeing and hearing, becoming a second person. Remember the pleasures of silence? The unanswerable questions of the mind. The doomed are cherished. Death is a lovely thought. Unable. Can't. Won't. Hate. Violence. Doomed. Am I dead or remembering? Is this real or just my unconcious imagination? I'm lost in a labyrith of the unknown.

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