I’ve been wrong about a lot, but one big thing is that this can’t be fixed. It can be fixed! It can be fixed! It can be fixed! There’s one way. Just one.
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I’ve been wrong about a lot, but one big thing is that this can’t be fixed. It can be fixed! It can be fixed! It can be fixed! There’s one way. Just one.
Seeking clear paths to
free everyone I’ve tangled:
I see only one
The quieter I become
The further I withdraw
Fading from my own view
…
It’s not really wanting to die so much as wanting to disappear.
Dying does take care of that, but maybe there’s other ways.
Today was a little clearer than usual.
Morning brought no change;
with burning scents on the wind
routine drives forward
The haunting persists:
I carry on ignoring
its calls for reset
(Follow up to Senryū 2025.03.27)
I’m casting these dice
Hoping for another night at the table
Either I go bust, fade into nothing
Or I find my fortune and live on
…
The end feels already written
But is it merely ink on paper, or etched in stone?
Delicate, easily torn
People say that doing the right thing is the most difficult
They also tell me I should stay
Near starless midnight
Acceptance of wicked truths
Closer than morning
Our wounds cannot outgrow us…
Or can they?
Can they grow and grow and grow further
Until they eclipse us
Rendering us their mere shadow?