Cold. So cold you cannot move. So cold you cannot feel… your heart is frozen and its adaptability to the freezing sensation makes it a clueless organ.. useless.. untouchable.
It is winter.
You know.. the winter that repeats itself every year. Plainly cold.. windy.. with a scent of freshness but with a nuance of dirt.
The perfect mirror image for the human soul. These two.. winter and the human soul have the same mysterious essence.. fresh dirt.
It seems clean even if it is just filth.. sorrow.. pain.. grief.. greed.. selfishness..
It is wind outside. Just like sometimes it is wind in my head. And I start to scream and fucking break everything around me. But the wind doesn’t stop. Contrary to what I expect to happen.. it divides into sparkles of black magic and forms a dark tornado.
It is called my hatred. The devil’s hatred for those who dwell into their own inabilities. Lack of passion.. lack of direction.. lack of purpose.
They say you only die once.. while these fucking maggots swarm around and eat your eyeballs. But with a lack of perspective.. your eyes are already rotten.. nests for angelic worms.
Again.. winter. Time passes by.. lights fade away.. people forget. Only I.. remain captive into a coffin of sad memories. I breathe them.. I drink their blood.. I enjoy my pain.
Sadistically methods of keeping some alive.. some buried.. some close to me.. and some trapped away in an cloudy ocean of unhappiness.
Cold again.. with each second that crosses the domain of existence it seems to be colder and colder.
A tricky weather.. just like the puzzled mind of a serial killer. It waits for you to make a mistake in order to get your vitality. You become a victim of your own ilusions. You dream within dreaming.. you live within death. And after that you vanish.
The night is dark but fragile. It can kill or give birth to emotion. Basically the most important ingredient in everything is emotion.
In the name of dark.. I command you to… feel.