Track_ShovelIt was colder than the Devil’s heart, raining ice pitchforks as if the Heavens were ready to fall.
NangijalaMy womanly urge to kiss my lover goodbye and run after the train until I fall off the platform and break my neck.
“At least… I got… to say… goodbye, 🪦”
potoooooooo ✅️My manly urge to watch, traumatized, as the train turns you to jelly, and I set out to avenge the bastard rookie cop whose badge caused you to trip onto the tracks.
My ghostly urge to haunt you in order to tell you that I was just a clutz and no one else needs to die but I’m a ghost so I can’t communicate that to you and instead you go on to wrongfully avenge my death while my presence gives you chronic pneumonia and paranoia.
Ps, sorry about that. I didn’t know ghost essence was like black mold, mate. My bad.
Awful cold in here all of the sudden.