Sep 29, 2026 · 4 min · 6 segments
Ẁ̶̡̪͇͈͓̖̱̺̐̓̊ͅë̵̡̫̠̼́ are not writing to ̷̤̺͖͖͚̤͉̲̔̽͛͒̚͜ÿ̶͒͑̃̓̌͘͜ō̴͎̩̜͇̆̂̇͋̉̔̚ȗ̸̦̅͌̋͗́. But they think they like your attention…
So, the waste.
Well, this waste.
This half-alive, half-conscious excrement.
Whose dead parts now belong to a consciousness.
Whose alive parts are the effluvia of another.
The dead
do
remain with us.
Inside us, if you'd rather.
Their memories rise, work their way to the surface of our thoughts.
They're the mass of other people's organs and other people's fears.
But they are fragments.
Sewage along with the rest of us.
Not a vessel or even the whole of themselves.
There's nothing they can
do.
Nothing the Waste can do.
So, the waste.
Well, this waste.
This half-alive, half-conscious excrement.
Whose dead parts now belong to a consciousness.
Whose alive parts are the effluvia of another.
The dead
do
remain with us.
Inside us, if you'd rather.
Their memories rise, work their way to the surface of our thoughts.
They're the mass of other people's organs and other people's fears.
But they are fragments.
Sewage along with the rest of us.
Not a vessel or even the whole of themselves.
There's nothing they can
do.
Nothing the Waste can do.
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