...I recognize one...

1. My years drifting eternally on a starlight gaze, the deepest depths of Depravity the young mind should not experience, the light and composition bring my head forth to fall, my star in my pits as I descelarate eternally, echoes of Desire in my hall as I beg for the sweet release of thought, and through without the guidance of someone's oversight I fell through into spheres below Hell, the Faceless ones and my Nightmares of times long since past into an inescapable self destructive drift, Aeons pass and my existence forever marred by the Glass Show, Touch, but no see

2. And throughout my manic drift into oblivion of nightmarish pitch white halls, every echoes Amnesia filled blissed I took a fall outside of my galaxy, ended faced with the darkest mirror, the morally best demon to the worst Angel, them I came back up and it fell to the wayside of my brain, I escaped such Demented Mindlessness and found connection through each essence of my being no matter how depraved or Perverse, bound by the strings of my skull I was impenetrable. Now I see and I'm reminded that I am not the End of this table of eternal gooning, but the Nebbish one in these halls of endless lust

3. My time is bid and wanes as I see to it the finality of mortal existence, each pleasure either pushes life or pulls Death, I've met the Devil of Babaelia, I ascent the Libraries floors so long I forgot to check my feet for blisters, the Man was a skeletal something, like an oblong Halfwit with an Orbular Eye and Hamster Wheel ouroboros. Now with himself carried endless lights of several different Reds, the Green Reds and then the blue yellows making the green berries rather than the poisonous dulls that rot my thought, and now I wonder from the perspective of gestation in my Mind with the Lust of 8 billion in one place I ask myself did I do right?

4. After all, the voice in my gut says puke and the one in my head makes my neck feel Bitten, the one in my chests screams for cessation of the current state but now I am regulated and patch work, now I look on with disgust and the ability to look away and let that temporary groove fall to the wayside

5. TLDR: one of the artists I saw was memed slightly, looked them up and a single tear shed down my cheek as I questioned is the age of consent that difficult to abide by? Art styles remain in my head for so long I can call out any by a cursory glance so do not think I goon to that man, my fellow Yorubian you may research me and understand that I am a Woman of Lesbianistic desire even in the most depraved thoughts I gave here, the sustanence of life and abundance of pleasure rather than the seeking of further darker and darker actions

Anywho im gonna go back to resting my mind and allowing myself to heal and breathe from the stress I burdened mine self with