I’m going to die anyhow, don’t be it at the doorstep

 

A dramatic tableau. Remembrance. Cultural synapses to hope.

Images under the portico, of guilt, and shame, and humanity in through and outside animality. 

Not human, predicament or void. Crumbling architectural beauties, 

“I do it for myself not for the audience, that’s how I show audience respect”

If the audience is the friends that I betrayed, forgetting

shapes again, the spectrum of heaviness.

Analysis of Disney movies’ wont brings you far, into horizons of intelligibility’s sake

The battles inside a collective are wicked towards the community,

Identity formation’s backdrop is the p/o/e/t/s/t/s/imism c/v/o/a/n/p/c/o/r/et/ized by meaninglessness, and forgettable existence.