*Long name: The Phobia of Having Your Worst Creatures Take Over Others' Bodies
There's a high-rise mass I'm trying to get under. Everything worth saving is there, people crushed under the clouds of the haze outside mean nothing to me anymore. I think I've already left my body under that mass. It may take hours and maybe days before they reach him, but I don't care. Now, neither the time nor the things that time brings, leaves it in the middle of the table, and forgets to close the door on its way, have no value. I secretly rejoice at the absence of anything of value, matter with a mass and a volume, because I used to spend my life trying to find the best. You can see a word joke here, spend...