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sometimes the driest regions of fear can hold the closest meaning to our hearts...

sometimes the coldest recesses of cruelty can hold the truest feelings to our nature...

and sometimes the break just doesn't seem to stop.

A focused point of anger, solitude, conformity, paranoia, cruelty, and we are broken... again...

stress fracture. broken mask.

a thousand faces.

a million voices.

Resonating within my skull, echoing down my conscious mind. and again... it is gone... we are lost.

which one are we? which voice holds our true nature?

which of the thousand faces is mine..?

someday it stops. and someday it starts.
©2005-2010 ~Brainwhacker
:iconbrainwhacker:

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a day lost to the many selves involved...

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April 6, 2005
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