The Realness
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Black Label

The Realness


The human condition is inherit claustrophobia. Compression of my space made complete. I would rip out my own entrails by hand just to be alone. Inanity rolls total through this sphere. Ostracized for clarity of vision.
A dream unrealized of solitude that
I should descend into autonomy and know the pain of fellowship no more. I feel nothing but lack of space. Paradox of socialization results in duress.
Rile with hostility, what has caused me so much hate? Humanity. Exterminate with extreme prejudice.

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