You're not dead yet. If we can't leave, neither can you.
You're not dead yet. If we can't leave, neither can you.
You're not dead yet. If we can't leave, neither can you.
before you lived
the grinding on in quiet desperation means you are still with us
I killed you two weeks ago, about 3:25 pm or so
August 21st, 2034. It was a Monday. Mostly sunny with some showers in the afternoon. You choked on a Bavarian pretzel. But time is a loop, so you woke up back in the womb and are running it back.
In this infinite reality we're already dead.
On the days of the week that start with the letter T..
If you didn't read it in the Obits, did it really happen?
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