a state of suffering caused by the sudden sight of one's own misery - day 5 lyrics
[[[unrelated notes from an old, forgotten project]]]
ghost 5:
perhaps it was the lights, or maybe it was the mailman making his rounds
either way, the confusion of stumbling in to a functioning neighborhood froze you long enough to end up surrounded by several police officers aiming their weapons at your head
you’re not allowed to question anything as you’re dragged away
it is only a faint memory of a rumor that leads you to believe that you’ve found the high cl-ss tier that survived
it seems that they’re so determined to maintain their status that after piecing themselves back together, every last resource went to restoring their own normality over aiding the survival of anyone else
this, of course, is not surprising, but simply adds to their disappointing reputation
the only real question is- who’s sending them mail?
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