It is as if life were already made out, except it is as if it isn’t

When I’m angry I seek, and when I’m not myself I seek a little further the roots of tireless striving towards perfection.
Your disdain dear audience makes no sense whatsoever, as does our fragile togetherness.
You always want to condemn me to notorious notoriety.
You beg from me my ecclesiastical yesterday, and I crave for a new dawn.
Let me be.

Are you okay, you ask?
Well, I’m not, and I will always be, to my best ability, yours, apsidally.


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