Bag om Barnes Breakdown
For: Barnes Breakdown Reader No amount of love or repression of your true self will save you from your own personal hell. Every traumatic experience ever endured is displayed for all eyes to see. I open all my demons and put them on display for you. Each word I write adds more fuel to flames of truth. Forgotten landscapes, forgotten buried feelings, strife fueled breakdowns, and through all the pain I know my story is reflected in yours somehow. I know I am one desolate crumbling building, flesh kindling for the world's ever burning bonfire. But with this expression of emotions I can transcend and perhaps touch another burning person. I could have been another man living in a hollow body, a cold shell working, and never saying anything. Where would I be if I stayed quiet? Where would I be if none of this happened? Root causes of problems need to be dealt with to move on. Just like a crumbling building, the foundation is the last thing standing. I know there are others out there in this age that are looking for honest relations to other people that have gone down the same rabbit holes and come out scared. There's always a beginning to a problem, always a root to the breakdown, the decay, the endless charade of everything. When you finally realize everything too noticeable to ignore then that is the time to make a decision. Are these hurts going to control me or am I going to rise above and move forward? This is for those who have no voice, no outlet for their pain. No outlet for their lonely decay, the ones that live in a breakdown day after day. They endure all these things alone. This is for them and for me. For readers of Henry Rollins, Henry Miller, Napoleon Hill, Jim Morrison, Iggy Pop, and Marilyn Manson, and Hubert Selby Jr.
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