Castigate With Corpse-Like Coldness

Missing from the scope of the narrative was that moment when you just wanted to understand. But the unforgiving nature of concrete held your breath at a distance from you. Try to bring it nearer and you would fail. That they say is the sanctity of sanity.

Outward looking from the windows of the train. The pieces of the dusk slowly form in the space between the trees. The space between all the supposedly unity of matter. That wonderless uselessness. Best raped with the extreme nature of movement itself. The defiling of the surroundings. It is weak and it must perish. The listlessness of the its stagnant nature. The dusk can set the forest on fire. If you unfocused your eyes enough. Hell if I died enough it would make things out of focus.