did he have any idea? were the broken carousals so broken that even the memory of where they were became just another lost note in the wind? maybe so. maybe so. but he was trying. he was trying so hard, through the slaughtering trash, through the heinous fires erupting from the pages of every daily on the continent. it was a war. there was no way to hide it anymore. it was a war and there could be no winner. but he had to try. he had to keep trying. there was a sweet life awaiting in the skies and he had to keep trying to get there. to where the violins and candywalls were. to where the voices in the mind were voices of soft licks and sharpened teeth. to some paradise. where the horses still raced the dunebuggies and motorcycles. he knew he could get there, if he just kept trying hard enough. just escape the plundering machine lumbering ever closer, ever so closer, so ever closer, with the breath breathing hot down the back of his neck. just keep fighting. don't give up, and the distortion pills will stop working. the rain will be free of the nanotruth. clouds will purify the sun. the dome will retract and he'll touch his feet to grass. he just knew it. maybe so. he just had to keep trying. he just has to keep fighting.Birth sign: Cancer
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