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That simple

Mundane certainly. So fucking ordinary it would tank at the box office, that stupid story. That thing. That big wad of gum stuck under my shoe. But in a linear situation, where facts cannot be more usual, lies complexities, astounding.



Simplicity in words. When it just makes more sense to go for it than to weave and dance and

Leaving traces. I'm leaving traces but letting the path fading. I will not use it again.

I've weaved, I've danced. Justified and avoided. Until no more options were available. I bought all the extras, found all the easter eggs, played in God mode.

An end that dragged through my words, an end that survived this long because of them.

Pictures, drawings, songs... An idea, a life within a folder, a thousand paper weights on it. All for the sake of this one story.

It lived and now has died and within an instant it will be for ever erased. Within an instant I will destroy all the intricacies I've carefully laid on it. My bonds. My weights.

Life. Death. Creation. Destruction. Truth. Lies. Realities. Dreams. Nothing in between.

As I said. Simplicity.