Atrophy: Breakdance

Willow Pines is thrust into a world of unknowing. Suffering. Dying. Hating. All the bad things, you know? For the deeds of what? A god? A cult? A thought? Memory, even. And in this world, we watch and wait, the members of the watchers counting the days until five years wrap nicely around their little fingers.

Torture and torment. Horrible little things. A human key. A spot. A fire. Two fires. Horror? Comedy? Maybe even some action? Maybe some redemption. Definitely some revenge. Don't let them get to you. Don't let them control you. Don't take shit from anybody. Fight them. Kill them. Kill the First. Kill the Second. Kill the Third and the Fourth if there even is one. The only real power is at the end of a long rifle. Pull the trigger.

Break down the body. Break down the system. Break down the world. Break down the people. Break down your mind. Break down your friends. Break down the episodic configurations of each and every day; Mon-Fri, stop it. Break down the page. Break down the atom. Break down the dance floor. Break it down. Break and dance. Breakdance. Atrophy. Breakdance. Atrophy Breakdance. Atrophy: Breakdance.