Embed Notice

I have: a blog, 500 characters, plus whoever happens to be awake at the time and isn't so pissed off by what I said that they stop listening.

The machine has... everything. Almost every waking hour of your lives.

My only hope is to make you remember it, make you feel it, bury it somewhere deep inside your brain even if that means you fucking loathe me for doing so.

And even then, I'm not going to win; but giving up is not an option, and it's not something I can forgive myself for.