/lit/ - Literature

The silence of outspoken and reveries of the broken, where trees once lay in open air. This feeling of repair in cognitive despair, the hussel and bussel of the cosmopolitan shuffles of corporate life, nothing but irreducible strife. Cramped in a filthy bus corner, constant enforced order, far too many mental borders to make man well. To sell take and sell is where his purpose dwells. So I’ll raise one last toast, and finally when my noose washes upon the coast don’t let emotional pretenders fool those I had love for the most.