19

ventilate(FICTION)

there are words that you can say that describe pain. there are things that you can think of that describe depravity. there are words that you can believe that mean sacrifice.

there is nothing that can reflect terror.

when i was 5 years old i saw a dog being eaten in the street by a few squirrels and a rat. it wasn't that bad really. biology class told me that it was natural and who am i to argue with the national education system. all hail the magnate. all follow the mandate.

in 1932 they knew better. in 1908 they nearly died. this is fact.

the words that follow will probably get me jailed. more than likely get me executed. if i sound nervous it's because I am. if i sound desperate, it's because i'm scared.

sometimes i don't know and sometimes i do. and that's the truth.

i found a diary about 4 years ago. no i don't know what year that would be so don't ask. since they changed the calender i really don't know anything anymore. time actually seems to be breaking down, so nothing is definite. but in this diary i found the truth about 1908, about 1932, about Jason. i found out about the magnate, i found out about the archive. i think i know the truth. it all started in siberia.

nebulize

garbage - stroke of luck