1. |
I
07:27
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I curse the struggle. The treason. I curse every word of reverence and every lie. I curse the alpha and the omega. The question. The search. The Spirit. The light. I curse the gravity of living. The victim’s charm.
I curse every verse of patience. The chasm that we can’t deny.
I curse the paradox of sin. The scriptures. The cross. I curse the prayers. The gospel. The faith. The burden. The doubt. I curse every gesture of kindness. I curse the seed of virtue. The empty excuses. Unjustified. I curse the self-loathing. The conflict within the mind. I curse the drama. The redemption. The promises. I curse the destiny. The uncommon wrath. I curse the hypocrisy. The indulgence. The humble. I curse the fragility. I curse any hope left in the heart of man. I loathe the unity within the many and the idea of the whole. I loathe the unjustified charisma. Any dogma and any law. I despite the sentence given by the judge. I loathe any words of comfort. I loathe any sign of courage and every attempt of the soul. I loathe the message. The knot at the end of the rope. I loathe the challenge to the spirit on every road. I bet for the indifference. I bet for the hatred. The scourge. The crime. I bet for the guilt. I bet for the scorn. I bet for the ruins.
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2. |
II
06:38
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Atrophy: it’s how the mind castrates itself. Monotony: a monument that we all worship. Envy: a careless passion. Shame is what we’ve been keeping aside. Repugnance: the content of our own soul. Abhorrence: the human nature. Nothingness: it’s what lies beyond. Solace: bare words of desperation. Sanity: a never-ending search.
Nostalgic: silent echoes from the past. Divinity: has lost its meaning. What we pursue is now lost in time. Sanctity: it’s no longer an option. Silence: it’s what we agree upon. Horror: the human condition. The Perseverance. The blindness. The drama. The unknown. A certainty for all of us. The trust. The words. The peace. Nothing is ever true. The cross. The scriptures. A dream that never occurred.
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3. |
III
07:48
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The inability to look forward. Narratives that keep us blind. Afflictions and every doubt. Labyrinths and narrow aisles carved in our own minds. Showing the same iniquities that keep us tied. The spiral drags us inside its endless womb. A voyage to the depths of the unconscious mind. A murmuring prayer into the void. The last words of everlasting sadness.
A sickness within our corrupted soul. A virus that corrodes our own resolve. And in our hearts, any sign of hope blooms. Like a silent garden without the sun. What seems to be the forthcoming wealth eluded us in a wink of an eye. Hope is a crime that we commit as a sort of craft. A venom provided by the healer to stop our cries. And now we see how disgusting the wait is. And how life runs out hastily. And now we see how grotesque hope is. And how the excuses become your own weakness. And now we see how grotesque the wait is. And how hope runs out hastily. And now we see how disgusting truth is. And how its meaning becomes less.
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4. |
IV
06:46
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I appeal to reasons that do not stand. I appeal to the spirit’s action in a motionless path. I appeal to persuasion instead of endless fury. I appeal to antagonize agony as a result of optimism. I appeal to set in motion a mechanism of dissent. I appeal to the fractured stigma of an acid faith.
Let’s agree upon the grounds of displeasures. The common ground of deviousness. Let’s say death is final at some point. Let’s say forgiveness does not overcome guilt. Let’s say, with no regrets, we are all expendable.
Let’s appeal to a dispute with no foreseen end. Let’s appeal to the corroded joy of the imminent grief. Let’s say reality is the perfect crime. Let’s say everything is bonded by the chains of misfortune. Let’s say we are all wounded by the arrows of hope. So this is how is written in the book of destiny. Arguments of a paradoxical psalm. The unpleasant paradigm of eternal cynicism. The inexpugnable instrument to degrade ourself.
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5. |
V
07:46
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The courage in hasty eloquence. The wildness of the tongue speaks the folly of the heart. Silence becomes noises to ears that only listen to the uncertain. Actions without meaning. Nonsense words spinning on the wheel of time. Images that say so little. The eternal dilemma of the departure. To a better place. In the search of the never-ending peace. On this gloomy day we embrace the path to the end, but not even death will set us free. Let’s welcome the stigma of the doubt. The unexpected sight of a blind eye. Given on the last mass. No aftermath, no utopia. Handcuffed by the perpetual annoyance. No vanity in the final attempt. Perplexed by the sloth. Echoes of the spirit’s revolt dare to bloom wild. A litany to the perfect unending hope. Principle of the misfortune to come. Psalms of instability. The spotless irony of the grotesque life. In contradiction. The always-distant horizon pushes the barriers far beyond the fragile dusk. Farewell spirits of the dawn. Martyrs of oblivion. Architects of loss. Prophets of the spiritual decay. Servants of bare words. Farewell spirits of the dawn. Witness of the wanderer hope. Peace belongs to the kingdom of thoughts. A place of servitude and shame. Overhead the road to nowhere. The path to the very end. A place where not even death will set you free.
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