I feel like death, the light is cold, and I am cold. I am losing my voice. I remember when the fever dreams were strange and marvelous, I don’t know why they aren’t anymore. Instead I have an all singing all dancing chorus of worries and aches. Is this funny? This is meant to be funny. Please God, let this be funny otherwise it’s too depressing and pretentious for words
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Published by Madeira Darling
Madeira Darling is a snarky mystic, devout Satanist, serious Marxist, laughing dominatrix, and writer from San Fransisco where they live with their boyfriend in a house full of altars to their various demons. View all posts by Madeira Darling
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