I swear i did promise myself that i would always know how to look back because i believe a crater is less doomed than a blackhole. Yet i seem to hate every single inhabitant of this home-crater; i despise their small souls and their deshumanised walk. They used to be equally poor but now they have become different types of crows. Even skin has changed; birds do need thick scalds to survive as they don't necesarlly live.
So now i am wondering wether it would be better to still watch over them or to let them be swallowed by a red sea of misunderstood equalities.

The only one who is truly ironic in this world is God. He has sent me flashes since i can remember myself being capable to receive so i grew up with the idea that i must love the strong yellow light and the deep blue seas; but it's clear to me now that while always looking down darkness has arrived. For women, darkness is a man who promisses magic and a trip to the stars he owns. Unfortunatelly, he cannot prove they are alive and you torture yourself 'till you burn just by wondering if you will ever get to know the truth.
I think the night is burning you worse than an angry sun. Isn't that ironic?