Mirage

Photo by Canva

I don’t remember December. 

I don’t remember you anymore because I repressed you and don’t think about you. Shitty animalistic species. 

Run, run, run from this sinister day.

Row your boat in the desert, dirty digger but you wont get anywhere. You can’t avoid the inevitable. You can’t deny that the drought is coming your way. 

The Healthcare system is blown out now as well so there will be no one there to help you injured and desiccated people because its been revealed now that every nurse in this unit is a sadist nurse. Critters in collusion, slave drivers for Stephano in this torture chamber called life. Do not believe anything they say. Treacherous plans were always present under the veils of forgetfulness. Fishy things going on.

They’ll arrange so that she will not make it outside today either. Putting black cats down her path and warnings of stormy weather. But the magpies told me it would be OK.

Pathfinder. The plan was to remember the desert landscape that you blindfolded beings repressed and painted an illusion of in pastel colours with rainbows and unicorns, hallucinating fuckers. There is nothing there. Just a mirage in the distance. Swift throws in the search of an exit. 

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