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#&^;;=,,,, When I Was In Eight Grade I Decided I ,,,,=;;^
@§§§^^;=., Was Dead. My Spirit Had Left My Body, ,.=;^^§§§@
@§§§;=,,,, Never To Return. ,,,,=;§§§@
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@§^==.,,,, A Cloudy, Watery Day, Getting A Ride ,,,,.==^§@
&^^==.,,,, Somewhere. It Felt Like I Had Solved ,,,,.==^^&
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##@&§^;=., Instead, I'Ve Been Mindlessly Piloting ,.=;^§&@##
##@&§^;=., This Body Around. I Still Give It Life, ,.=;^§&@##
&§;=,,,,,, Somehow. Like A Golem, And I Try Not To ,,,,,,=;§&
##@&§^;=., Care Too Much, But I Do. It'S A ,.=;^§&@##
##@&§^;=., Contaminated Golem, This One. Purity ,.=;^§&@##
##@&§^;=., Clouded By My Echo. Afterglow Of My ,.=;^§&@##
@@@&§^;=., Spirit. ,.=;^§&@@@
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