Hell

Whatever I could have wanted to say or to, is officially dead. Inside of me, the myst of darkness comes softly. So softly, that it hits so hard andno one ever seems able to understand or to recognize me. It's ok. I'll be ok.
The myst of darkness comes with sunny days, grey days, sunny days that turn into grey days. The thunderstorm is promised for a while now, but nothing until now. Maybe today. Maybe tonight.
She speaks and speaks and she seems to doesn't understand I do not care. Stay away. Go meet your friends - maybe they're working this afternoon? They seem to be putting aside. That's ok, the task to move along is easier for me.
I look away and my mond drifts from one issue to another. They come by, they show some support and bring me some "future and hypotetical food". Junk food has never ever been good to anyone, but even the best ones can be kinda "junky" from times to times.
I feel trapped in a huge trap - Universe itself playing it's usual games?! Any God or Goddess creating new stories on His / Her novel?! Tracing new lines on His / Her mad sketches? Who knows?!
Sunny days are bringing me the darkest desires of Winter nights. Winter nights brougt me the desires of long Summer nights.
I am feeling lost... I'm feeling so lost, that it's hard for me to recognize the face in the mirror. And this brutal truth, is leading me onto and through brutal & living Hell. Keep goin', mad soul, Hell's not endless.

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