Every day, I become more disgusted with life. I crawl out of my womb only to have the unsavory taste of the putrefaction that is in motion, chrome my tongue. When it becomes acute, when it penetrates my stodgy skin of stolid porcupine quills, I return hurridly to the obscurity of my world. I lick my wounds, the metallic taste overpowers, yet on the tip of my tongue remains the disgusting flavor of life. Such a fucking race to the grave!
life… what\’s so great about it?
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