Gisselle N. Schaffner @ParallelismPact

Notations have been developed for the mass experience. The world as we know it doesn’t stand a chance.

My heart will explode.

I can’t believe New ink It’s so threatening when Everyone I know Is made of stone, Catch me in These passing glances In the room, Shake my hand Sit down Here’s what’s new.

Am I here On the surface? Empty box acid trip Flipping the environment like pages - People felt empty. If I’m here that means I’ve made it back home. Crooked smile My friends, they don’t know. Why am I so fucked? It’s okay, it’s okay.

Her heart beat has been stolen by the thump of that daze. I’m afraid. It’s possible we’ll never be the same.

Lesser daze is alive all around me. I can’t sit still. It’s coming too soon, I can hear them.

It’s strange to know they all have familiar faces, I write the wrongs - I wrong the rights - It’s here like similar places.

The voice does not shut up. It does not shut up for the life of me.

This event entails coming face to face with our life’s source material. Every member will be present, every thread of the dream’s fabric engaged. It feels as significant as the celebration does, and it will no doubt come with wild, catastrophic daze.

A monumental event is looming. Putting them on speaker, we work on preparing ourselves - but the voice forces a recount. I tremble within the myriad of images.

I flop desperately Like a fish out of water. The universe continues sending aggressive, meaningful messages and While I gasp for air - She hits snooze on the alarm.

Experiencing withdrawal for the first time in months. The strangulation of the heart is immense - painful and joyous. I can’t believe people like you exist.

Twenty one depictions before the bars rattle. Our body is one body, I don’t regret a thing.

Double L saw through her to me. A collaboration is struck.

Life is so wonderful, I don’t feel pain.

My eyes got caught on the arch - The arch from which she fell, Legendary dream becomes Permanent in the skin. Our lifestyle is fed by patterns.

The climax of the celebration has faded. The falling action draws the pieces back.

She’s taking her rightful place. All is right, emotions are high. This is not the end. Long live The Galaxian Break.

The age-old desire to make this all count has surfaced. Eleven hours remain.

All knowledge acquired up to this point is accessible. Two days remain.