Jesus H. Christ, I don’t see how I’ll make it another 30 years, or 20. Every new person I meet is a puzzle box not unlike the ones in the Hellraiser films.
I don’t want to know their life histories. They are not real, their pain is not real, I can’t invest anything in them. Keep them away.
I wish finding the Gateway out of here involved long hours of sitting and living in isolation, but if you live in a complex society, you’re fated to deal with its clockwork hells.
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