The night was nothing but cold and useless. Just like me. So useless that the vibe became dull and idle until all stars faded and moon shone nowhere. I was there among the nights, sitting alone entering the intra-galactic vessel with no hopes and dreams. I thought happiness was there as well, but no because it was temporary. The thing that I hated the most became the thing that I missed the most. All the darkest secrets that I had buried, reincarnated into ravens flying into the sky shouting, 'i died six times in a row.' I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to sleep. I couldn't dream and I didn't want to dream. I knew I was nothing and forever I would be nothing. Let the razors found my wrist and greeted my like an old friend who was, after all this time, waiting on the other side of the shore, waving his left-hand and sang a sad tune. The surreal was real. The hyper-real was fake. I doubted the system of trusting your inner self because the closest thing that could get into your vein are not viruses and diseases but your hatred. Especially when the hatred came from you weaknesses combined with your uselessness. Why you were born if your existence was just temporary to all people. Why you were happy if happy lied to you at the first place. In his contract it had clearly stated that you were born free but controlled. You didn't know the struggles of your own life until you looked back into the past and saw the same guy died all over again.

I'm useless.
God doesn't bless useless people.

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