BROKEN SAND.

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One self on the right, the other on the left. To please all parties, to neglect self-esteem. To be brought up, and overnight thrown out the picture because embodying too much of what is not supposed to be, and not enough of what is missing.


+ A walking cancer ++ This speaking plague +

+ Hemoglobin allergy, still breathing +


Feeling sorry to be. Apologies for existing. Down the scale of unfulfilled expectations. Hearing the exit music. Hypnotic. Comforting.


On the way out still smiling. Faking. To assist and uplift. Sourcing the highly preached and lie of love, friendship and family. Holding tight on to the eternal flame. Opening the way. Left for dead in the capitalist gutter, choked with pathological words of horizons somehow brighter. Flesh, bones, and brain, synonym of failure. Last stop: slaughterhouse through hypersimulation.

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+ ESCAPE ++ ENTER ++ ERROR +

signature of cindy fournier freelance writer 2021

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