Once again, waking up without control tabula rasa is no longer, it’s been written like a protocol of rights and wrongs. I'll be shouting out that the signature is false, this is not me it’s someone under false parole!
Yet I can’t ignore my memories of yesterday, and it shapes me like a fraud.
This is the life I live, my faults flaws and wrongs.
Neither less I'm still moving through the thin air, and the reaper of society is still to be borne. Like a fetus, defenseless and confused, in a dark place preparing for an even darker future. I as many know that only through chaos we can truly be reborn. But that feeling, that independent dark shade in my room clings to my weakness makes it live again it's in the corner, it’s my hollowed fiend.
My room, my mind still I can’t push it out, it’s there and it’s disgusting presence of mind control makes me sick. As any lowlife should know he mocks you until you break, and I can feel that the moment draw near. Even though, it's a part of development since the ending days is the day of the beginning. Sacrifices are to be made, as always in the history of man, but not for a divine purpose but of the simple subject of life.
Addiction yes, hallucinations yes, but that's all there is. A splendid divided world of this essence.
