These days of unbearable exhaustion, no things were left without some sort of prejudice.
But all the long nights and thoughts of exterior quietness feel like a reversed mode of paradise. Paradoxically, there are so many things out of sight, I feel no right to express in external places the ambiguous reality of my soul choice.
In the epicenter of my thoughts, I want to go to faraway places. I need to go where the sun never sleeps. I want to go where a perpetual radio station lives. I want to be alone in an everlasting place where the sun never seeks the end of interior displaced delusions.
I clearly think life it’s not just what appears for us to be:
Life always seems so devastating! Life always seems so powerful and distressing and destructive. Resting over the moon, in the shadows of a serenity field, where everyone that addresses the code of comfort appears to be quiet and realized. Life is the painstaking and useless opinions of others, but what do I know about life’s contradictory tears, or life's wasted years? Probably, just what I have been watching closely.
I certainly see some days longer. Some days seems endless. This everlasting circle of life seems so disturbing for so many times. This circle of life seems so full of senseless disturbing visions of unseen things. Everybody keeps looking at me, but I don't want anybody close to me.
Unfortunately, it seems that I will always have those endless days of corrosive black rain. Reminding me of things long past. Reminding me of days that will not come back. Reminding me of days of disturbing melancholic passages of darkness and sickness, of the darkest sadness of the paralyzing agony of the living emptiness. Days so dark and so obscure and so furious that they were always filled with a deeply oppressive agony. And yet, happiness and optimism always prevailed, and the everlasting light of a glorious day always managed to shine incredibly strong.