Your existence; it's intoxicating. Really, we're just two hapless beings with incoherently fatal remnants. Yet, somehow, I can't help but to yield my dependance to measure myself to your modus vivendi. The fundamentals of cacoethes, exaggerated with saccharine words quivering up your spine, breaking into your mind. I really don't know anymore. "Is it worth it?" Is it?
I foreswear.
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