You'd think dreaming about death would insight some goth phase or need for help i was intending to seek help but as in all things intent doesn't enact a task under-way many people don't get help. I one of them set alone in the wasteland of our world. humanity the equivalent to rocks dotting the landscape. I can see my fight is not one with the people but with myself to not become a rock or more insignificant a pebble We all have our inner battles it seems that the freedom of mind over task is dragging us away from success. we wont win with this as the rocks we are. art is alive and music primed but all of my dreams are filled with dying. from the fight to the night my dreams are all unhelpful and undeserving. my hopes a very light moss on the ground being trampled. i owe myself the end;
the end of this blog entry
P.s. i am continuing to seek help.
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