With the first groups we would trow ourselves into the vacuum, into the abyss, looking for answers, we push ourselves foolishly and encountered great mystery and pain. As i found myself one day, waiting for a rock to get me trough the day, The burning orange was scraping my idiocy, the light that got inside me and was scraping my inside from the unnecessary. I was just a thin skin, able to look outside and inside, a bag of empty meat. Outside reality was still happening as we remembered it, inside the orange burning sun was cooking us, getting us ready for the next station.
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