Downstairs lies hope. In the dream of space and the final of my frontiers I look down. Solitude is hopeful, loneliness a curse. There is an edge so sharp and fickle, I must stand on it, baiting the ground to swallow me.
-"Fucking chickenshit earth!"
It doesn't take my dare.
I walk back to the stately hallows of my manor and sleep until my eyes are sandpaper.
Then, I drink, until I cannot walk.
Then, I furiously masturbate, until the seed stains every wall.
Yep, here's to the end of the world.
It was such a big one.
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