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A view through the rain covered window that is my mind. It may be a twisted view.
'T'
My wits are fraying, splitting into thousands upon thousands of to small threads. And I cannot help it with those voices that have driven me to my maddening state how could I? Stop. And yet they will not cease their screeching and the squawking chatter is only growing worse. Stop...stop whispering my name. Stop calling for me. Stop...stop...stop...stop. Stop!

Is silence not maddening as well?





 
 
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