The circle is full from an overhead view, but heads tilted slightly to the side will see the spiral tapering out into a flat-line.
Needs are met on a basic level, but basic is the first rung on the ladder my mind has scaled, somehow. There is nothing i can think of that made me this way, and nothing short of a miracle keeps my threads from unraveling. This tapestry depicts terror, passion, i dine with concepts.
I limn my home with smiles and laughs, frowns and screams, tears and complacency. They are programmed to speak much clearer than the people whose minds they visit. Hermitage is coming around the bend, like headlights around a curve on a dark night. No turns, no games, no exits aside from the fall, just the blurred pavement beneath us moments before we collide.
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