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So much mixtures of death and violence and sex. Plays within and into hope, faith, suffering, stillness, tenderness and abuse, warm thoughts can glow or boil to seething; paradox humans. Anger envelops, even the birds cannot escape, man turns himself round trying to search for his face, caterwauling to bask in shrillness. Such violence within that projects in the mind, intervals of interstitials visual redrum. I hurt so I imagine hurt. Pain inflicted, vicarious punches and beats played out, repeat. I am a shadowman enjoying the shade? I relinquish calm to relish in vengeance, pathetic revenge morbid cold and crushed.

Antipathy; homo sapien phobic. Minutes wasted on the hate, life wasted on hate, self wasted.

Upbeat jolly withered willow. Kpop blasting in shade. The Fade calls, viral, suck me vortex spiral tap. Why don’t I write jingles and pretty sonnets? Madonna’s got kids books. You go from sick of darkness to sick of yourself to clinging back to it and hiding in the shade for fear of the reveal. True reveal and true self, if you find it would you even know. I know nothing, I am no one, waiting for simple fix exorcism to solve it. Solve me solvent.
End of riddle.

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