Distance is the knife. The killer of all logic and of all feeling. Even when close, the presence is gray. Nothing is felt, there is nothing. A void when there should be something. Something that I want to love, something that I can't let go. But I must, because to let go is to be human. To let go is to the realization of mortality. To let go is to... To stop denying.
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I won't let go, because I am lost. My heart bleeds, the knife twisted further. Vain attempt to reconnect, vain attempts to bring order. Reclaim this fantasy, reclaim me again.
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I cannot escape, a celestial object bound to its inescapable gravity. I do not want to escape.
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I want to escape, but I do not want to escape.
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A fate that I cannot escape. A fate that I had realized too soon.
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Soon, there was nothing.
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