| Noose... |
So this is the bottom. It is cold. It is ugly. Everywhere, there is grey. Grey, and me. It doesn't get better than this.
.
Someone told me there would be days like this. I should have known better.
.
I just need something to hold onto to pull myself out of this hole. I just can't seem to find a helping handle...
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Shiny new triggers for a line of loose cannons...
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All stars point to the sky...
.
Dear Diary,
.
Fear me.