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Crematoryy

Crematoryy

Autophagic Loneliness
Feb 12, 2025
233
In the recesses of my unconsciousness, I would rest perpetually.
All things would become old, and the world would no longer matter.
Without a sun to dawn; without a moon to shine; just resting in the fullness of emptiness.
Letting all the memories slowly go away.
Detaching myself from
physical materiality. Hovering in nonexistence.
 
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