mandor

It's time to move on. Few stories need an ending, and few need the beginning. Writing takes time and the lack of it is frustrating. Now I understand all these people that want to leave the cities and move somewhere where they can find peace and silence.

I lost some time once. It's always in the last place you look for it.

When you were here before,
couldn't look you in the eye.
You're just like an angel,
your skin makes me cry.
You float like a feather,
in a beautiful world
I wish I was special,
you're so fucking special.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

Goddamnit. I carry on my writing problems. Finding out "an abyss to look into" for characters apparently is a long hard road out of Hell. Making them choose greater evil is ****ing hard.

One thing is sure. Those who die can no longer suffer.

They'll never see, what I've seen
They cannot know, who I've been
The things I've done, they torture me
But I need them for they are me.

I was born dead. The Kingdom is mine. I saw the Beginning.