Tuesday, November 25

I hope it's satisfyingly descriptive

The weight of some sort of existential-depressive crisis has hit me today like a lead-beaded sledgehammer, soft bong bong bong of heartsrtings that seem stretchy enough to withstand, and not break with, each impact. Or was that someone banging on the fortress walls I've built without noticing? But of course, they've not noticed either....

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