The cold of static thoughts drifts like a fog inside my head. I feel vulnerable, insecure, because I don't know what could happen next. It's like being in a dark room with your eyes closed. You don't believe what you hear, neither what you feel. This cursed uncertainty, which you can't ignore. And you don't have any strenght to doubt it. You just let it flow in static, untill it freezes inside you, letting the ice of indiference scratch the emty shell that once was your soul...
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