We dove through the depths when everything else seemed lost. Even when you feel lost
to the stars, existentialism never gives up on you. I stare the reaper in the face and
feel his own insecurities firing back at me. He’s powerless to break me when he
knows nothing of his own fruitless circumstances. Even when we fight back
against the darkness, we make our own mortality feel unencumbered.
For all the times we’ve scream endlessly into the abyss, we need to
feel the ramifications of detaching from our essence. only then will
the rest of existence come into focus.