Every book ending, every chapter’s end resembles the dread, the whole story nearing the close. The life ending I have lived with this book. This state of my world.
Can’t really pinpoint. When a book is stretched this long, points and events seem just appear. You don’t listen. Untold intrinsics start showing. Resembling the silhouette of horrible life you might not recognize.
Tolstoy drowns me right back into it
— Aug 07, 2023 11:02AM
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