Wedged between proactive and Actively ill-AWARE, what they’ve been to feel is

So very Dutiful above All-Of-ANYthing-else, reALLy. They’ve even done the tImE, unWinDed The Rhythm-of-Rhyme:: and asking ourselves just one such multiplication of Question

But HOW(thef*ck!!)ON EARTH were they ever-even-able to carry their mind$— so harsh and agonised By abysmalMeNtAl disintegration:—> to this

Hahahahaha place: of heart and soul and all things remaining purPOSEly Remote

… AND CEASELESSLY controlled(?) We cannot ever know that particular artist’s quantifiable Answer Although/// what we CAN inFACT do is..

Sit and a-n-a-l-y-s-e each-of-every next little mEaNdeRiNg “-Of-ThIng which they’ve been forced to

displace themselves and SAY. Mentally speaking, As if It All Made lOpSidEd KiNdD Of Sense Of itself Because it mother-fucking DID

In an idiotically idiosyncratic instance of PUTRID and abhorrent ocd- this will st(ILL) take much more we can ever-EVEN-begin To BEG OURSELVES to imagine// the state of beingABLY able to bring

It ALL back from the unTHINKABLE brINK SomeHOW(?!?)