In the cold, shadowed passages of my unconcious, I knew the path I was taking would lead me to a darkness I had never experienced before. Though I’d never lived there, I knew of its existence. I knew the foulness of the inhabitants, I was well aware of the pain felt by all within it’s borders and the souls lost and stolen. And with steel trapped irony, death, in these parts, is unforgivingly rare. With blind determination I struck out to immerse myself in no less than pure hell.
And so it begins…
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Tags: death, drugs, hardcore, meth, minneapolis, nyc, pain, punk
January 2, 2009 at 9:20 pm |
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