I try to shake it loose-but these ideas, they cling. It’s like I’m shackled to them with an iron chain. They rattle along behind me, dragging against the ground, always reminding me of their presence.

I try to shake it loose-but these ideas, they cling. It’s like I’m shackled to them with an iron chain. They rattle along behind me, dragging against the ground, always reminding me of their presence.

– Maureen Johnson –

The Madness Underneath

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