I am certain that what I left behind is somewhere ahead of me. These are interesting times, and of that I have no doubt. Node out.
The tragic side of what is past is what we will come to enjoy and employ to make endless comedies for our amusement. We cannot help to be slaves to this when we deem ourselves master of something else and forget our true place among the ashes.
The crashes are hurtful and permanent. You cannot escape the terminal velocity of your own ignorance and self-serving satisfaction of being Better than Them.
Better than that, you are only as cool as you perceive others to be square. Can you dig it? It's a neverending story of hate and circular logic. You are only a cog in a larger machine, in a lodger's need, in a lodging needle.
It's inside you, it's a painful sore and you cannot cut it out with all the irony in this world.
You need to bleed yourself, a little, a little more, too much to make this world forget you.
Or you could strain at the gates and push through the bars and still be dead and forgotten for all your troubles.
You decide.
I am only the all consuming darkness.
I have already eaten your soul.