[ Really, she ignores his incredulity, contemplating instead the idea he has presented her with. She wonders if she... believes in herself. Trying to feel out that idea is disorienting, like reaching into a dark hole that swallows her arm. Warped by a madman's religion, her sense of self is sometimes difficult to navigate. Death of the ego, separation from her humanity through repeated destruction of basic human inhibitions. ]
What is a Life?
[ As far as she understands it, it's a long torturous crawl towards death. ]
no subject
What is a Life?
[ As far as she understands it, it's a long torturous crawl towards death. ]