Oh Balturin, my heart cannot stand this emptiness and the silence my audiences will bare!
Well aren't you a strange creature. You're funny. I float here in the abyss, suspending the worlds above. No one thanks me. No one knows I exist.
What makes you so special then? Let me tell you something, little man. We exist and we soon do not exist. Faces are carved in stone and reduced to sand.
Books are written and the words are rewritten in a new way. Men and women become ideas and are forever uncelebrated in their long due passings.
Your words are meaningless, your art is worthless, your ideals are empty and your soul has nothing. You are nothing.
So...little man... what is it going to be? Are you going to make yourself exist or will you let others choose for you?
Will you dabble away and cry that no one is paying attention? Will your heart bare weight that no one cares?
No one cares. I do not care. You must care. It does not matter if you believe or not. That is the only way you can exist.
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9 years, 8 months ago
08 Apr 2015 03:17 CEST
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