If you think you have a chance of escape, just ask all the residents of hell what they’re still doing there. How they grew to love it, at home amongst the flames. If you think there’s a page I haven’t written on take a look at your journals. See if my words aren’t in every sentence and my descriptions aren’t undoing your determination to leave. If you think you’ll ever be a free man, remember the slaves of old and how they sung in vain for their liberty. See how their bodies slowly surrendered against even their wills.

You’ll never be free of me.

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