Philosophical poetic prose.
Existential angst causes me to suffer deliriums and tortures of the mind. Longing for a freedom that I’ll never know. Sweating through bodily contortions and mental gymnastics, while my psyche drowns in melancholy. My demons taunt me, while they tear at my flesh, wounding my soul and peeling back the façade of truth. Liberating my spirit from the false dichotomous gods of good and evil. Placating my conscience to allow my continued existence.
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