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<blockquote data-quote="SergeantAutist" data-source="post: 12178" data-attributes="member: 29"><p>Reality isn’t here. It’s barely holding on, like a badly tied knot trying not to slip. We’re the leftovers of a universe that couldn’t quite pull the plug, a half-dead thing, still gasping for breath, afraid to collapse but too broken to keep standing. Every breath you take? Unnecessary. Every thought you have? Rotting before it finishes forming. We’re just maggots, feeding on the remains, playing our roles in the grand charade. Everything you see, everything you think you know? It’s all the byproduct of failure. Like a fucking mental vomit we’ve been tricked into swallowing again and again. There’s no structure here, no grand plan—just a bad decision that never got undone. Reality is a glitched-out loop, running on empty, pretending it’s stable while the cracks split open behind your eyes. You feel them, don’t you? Those gaps in the thought process, those voids where logic should live? Yeah, those are the scars left by a botched reality. You’re not living in it, you’re just a part of it—a cog in a machine that’s been rusting since the moment it failed to blow itself apart. You think you’re here, but really, you’re just echoing what could’ve been, repeating a dead cycle, caught in the leftovers of a universe too weak to kill itself. And now, it’s too late to fix it. We rot, because reality couldn&#039;t.</p></blockquote><p></p>

[QUOTE="SergeantAutist, post: 12178, member: 29"] Reality isn’t here. It’s barely holding on, like a badly tied knot trying not to slip. We’re the leftovers of a universe that couldn’t quite pull the plug, a half-dead thing, still gasping for breath, afraid to collapse but too broken to keep standing. Every breath you take? Unnecessary. Every thought you have? Rotting before it finishes forming. We’re just maggots, feeding on the remains, playing our roles in the grand charade. Everything you see, everything you think you know? It’s all the byproduct of failure. Like a fucking mental vomit we’ve been tricked into swallowing again and again. There’s no structure here, no grand plan—just a bad decision that never got undone. Reality is a glitched-out loop, running on empty, pretending it’s stable while the cracks split open behind your eyes. You feel them, don’t you? Those gaps in the thought process, those voids where logic should live? Yeah, those are the scars left by a botched reality. You’re not living in it, you’re just a part of it—a cog in a machine that’s been rusting since the moment it failed to blow itself apart. You think you’re here, but really, you’re just echoing what could’ve been, repeating a dead cycle, caught in the leftovers of a universe too weak to kill itself. And now, it’s too late to fix it. We rot, because reality couldn't. [/QUOTE]

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