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letra de rant 2 - emilie autumn

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what is feeling if it can be smashed so easily? have i built up anything in the course of a happy day that cannot be torn down by tomorrow’s inevitable sorrows? am i so fragile that a word from the outside of the transparent orb that encloses my physical self, being said, pr-cks the invisible dome and leaves me utterly defenseless against the onslaught of everyday realities? and what is to be said for rebuilding that sh-ll? will it provide me anything more than a few short hours of divine oblivion? ah, but what can be accomplished in a few short hours? many great things, and these things, if carefully constructed, may perhaps furnish a sort of hospital waiting room wherein, when i am next divested of my orb, i might p-ss the time in slightly more comfortable surroundings than had i been rushed directly to the operating table.

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