Isn’t it lovely being decaying matter?
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Isn’t it lovely being decaying matter?
“I wish I could paint my heart black, because my life is dull and has no meaning. I wish I could have the strength to puncture my heart and deflate the life out of it. I wish I could view the sunset from the cemetery, and lay a wreath of flowers with black-coloured petals on my grave.”
m always alone, but I’m never lonely. Suicidal thoughts keep me company and death always shadows me. And so I stand here at the station alone, waiting for my train to hell.
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