good lord above i ve got nothing of consternation anymore months upon years dwelling and failing to see what s in front of me a better question to ask is if these fucking scars are real my veins are strychnine with burning windows in my eyes i crawl back inside my crestfallen chest and insist to exist i will never fucking change and this poses a problem for the ones who associate with this revenant i don t know where it comes from all i know is where my malevolence travels i m drained insane disdain the pain is the only force at work in me this has been a long time coming here we go flip the switch and step back it doesn t matter who hears this it doesn t matter who interprets what in which way you will never dissect these words and think you know what s going on in me this is simply a passage a signal sent from the transistors up above tales of an iconoclast heretic cynic dissident with all the answers but no will to share