In the end, you reach the end. The flesh and blood of generations. The crying baby cries because he knows he dies. But it matters not in the flash of life. The joy and the sorrow. The grief and the guilt. A great and grisly life in the house that Jack and Jill built on the hill comes tumbling down and you are alone in the living dead room with ghosts that do not speak because they know nothing in an endless void of nonexistence.

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