I’m clearing myself with deep silence flaking out I’m touching the bottom with my hand; I’m going out like the light It’s like a blackout for me.
But if I am not me, but if everything is a lie there is some flaw of memory and I am smoke without fire, and I’m alone in the universe and days are becoming a blind mist, but if I am not me.
Maybe it’s only a simple dream, and I’ll wake up I know a catchy tune of baseless vacuous doubts by heart. I’m breaking some traits of my fragile soul I’m falling down like a wounded bird. It’s not my goal.