Different day.

Same old shit.

How I got stuck in such a constant pause! I’m hurling myself in light and darkness, like a bug. My soul is getting older with each swing, getting tired, getting weak. There’s no satan left to buy it! Everyone leaves. Demons and angels- everybody is in a hurry. Eventually all have an identical face behind those colorful wrapping papers.

I’m just waiting. I’m just counting each eternal minute. For what? For whom? Don’t ask me. I don’t know. 

Let me whisper. Let me listen to the melancholy monologue of the wind. Let us talk about those days when I was able to separate illusion and imagination. All those days are now playing hide-n-seek in the maze of my mind. All my life is now sleeping inside the blue ashtray. All that 23 years I’ve walked so far is burnt.

Ash to ash.

Dust to dust.

Yet once again, I feel sorry for myself that I could not die even for a single time in all these 23 years of my lifetime!