The singing never really stopped, it existed all within my own head. Over and over again. Thousands upon thousands of seconds, minutes, hours, hell poured out of my mind. What madness have I unleashed upon myself. To a mind that exists on Euclidian thought, I am as Bolyai and Labachevsky, both tearing apart the thought of the elements. I have shattered my thought. The thought of myself,Â
the singing, Ever long, Ever existence, Ever evolving.
Ever Horrible
Ever Beautiful