how do you pick up the threads of an old life.. when in your heart， you begin to understand， there is no going back..? there are some things that time cannot mend. some hurts that go too deep.

you cannot hide， i see you. there is no life after me. only 𝘋𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘏.

you have killed without hesitation, and your one mistake was a single act of 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚.

fantasy is an easy way to give meaning to the world. after all —— isn't that why we surround ourselves with so many screens? so we can avoid each other? avoid truth?

into the fire， she swallowed their hate.

gandalf， ¿a dónde vas? / a buscar la compañía del único por aquí que tiene algo de sentido común. / ¿y quién es ese? / ¡YO MISMO!

and if i live or if i die, it really doesn't make a difference to me.

how do you pick up the threads of an old life.. when in your heart， you begin to understand， there is no going back..? there are some things that time cannot mend. some hurts that go too deep.

the fear of blood tends to create a fear for the flesh.

do you believe you could 𝒄hange me， the way i've changed you? / i already did.

occasionally， i drop a teacup to shatter on the floor on purpose. i'm not satisfied when it doesn't gather itself up again. someday， perhaps， that cup will come together.

we will see each other again， by the light of the dawn. and my eyes will seek for yours， gold and fire both —— but you'll be already 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞.

lo siento. / sí. yo también. pero algunos errores no se arreglan solo con lamentarlo. no se arreglan hagas lo que hagas.

YEAH! SCIENCE， BITCH!!

in seeking 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄, i created 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇.

you're a good man， arthur morgan.

you have killed without hesitation, and your one mistake was a single act of 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚.

the world itself's just one big hoax. spamming each other with our running commentary of bullshit， masquerading as insight， our social media faking as intimacy.

i do see the beauty in the rules， the invisible code of chaos hiding behind the menacing face of order.

NO REST FOR THE WICKED.