I'm not even mad.
The fire that burned in my soul has been reduced to embers. Even thinking of improvement seems like a joke.
The ones that kept me going are distant. Have I given up on catching up? What happened to the one who proclaimed the end of the world. Where is the fire to see it all burn. Where is the hatred that moved me forward? Is it all gone? Have I lost myself in the masses I once sought to destroy? What remains in this body, not a shred of energy, not a shred of pride. I no longer chasten myself. I no longer grieve at wasted time. It was easy to let go, and I fell down a mountain.
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