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Sitting in the corner of a crowded room, watching life move quickly by, lost in my own abandon, one by one the pillars fall, giant changes though still mute, I am silently fading away.

From the corner, one last bolt, save the rest, but there's still no hope, I regain my mortal pain, sitting quietly... fading away.

Prepare arrange, concentrate contain. There is no key to turn fix things, do I want one not even sure. Gathering bound, party, celebration, meeting, funeral, form or fashion they unlock into the same. Boxed in bodies. Each time wondering, not compreheding the time before, chance again. Mix moving with out end, tension steps up slowly. Faces sliding past, words in trail, a whirlpool spin of complication revolving. Broken thoughtless interaction, translated. Pressure built unease and anxiety, preffered channel opening. Doors, double single sliding wood metal glass, interchangeable in form for memory they mean the same. Slipping into the open, buildup deconstructs. Pressure vanish falls to nothing, clarity. Crisp cold folds my steps forward. Silence and darkness slowly envelope the way home.

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