Maybe I will repeat these questions to myself time and time again as I have been, never overcoming the late stage of grief, and finally acceptance. Some remain in comfort of familiarity, of which I to insanity.

So at what point will I realize this solitude is a manufactured fragment of my mind attempting to clutch onto the past as we move on? Will I ever grow as a person, or remain the current, pitiful human I am?

Cynical as my comments may be, I can't help but think of the steps I take to avoid my time spent here hunched in my desolate room. No matter where I go, what I breath, of whom I think, all lead back to the regrets obscured in ambiguity by my willful ignorance to face the past.

Apple bottom cringe, boots with the kek (with the kek), got the whole club dredging their legs through the sandy-ridden plains of Egypt, of which foreboding in the distance is the last remaining visage of Ozymandias and his eternal empire that lays in waste. For what did it mean? As I wake up from that wretched dream, people surround me of all four corners of my peripherals. I cannot take but a breath while I lay on the streets of Paris.

Added to invite to reunion

dude ur legit the reason why we're losing when i said im puhsing A i didnt mean ur supposed to bring the damn bomb to B when the entire team is on A like dude youre actually retarded and you lost the 2v1 and they ended up clearing us out you just suck man quit csgo man