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No. 9197
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>>9188
>There was something disturbingly familiar about the note on the desk. The paper was full of black feathers.
>CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW CAW
>The nuclear blast washed the lies away. My whole life was but an article in an overpriced two-pages tabloid: words hanging still in the air like danmaku, pointless repetition of the same situations over and over again, personalities reduced to a single trait, the illusion of choice present in every post.
>I was in a story board. Funny as Hell, it was the most horrible thing I could think of.
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