Purity and order banish from the world a long time ago. All my being is penetrated by disgust for senseless and empty life. Only Fools are happy by promise. I tearing the chains of agonizing existence. I have passed the Way and I want everything to end here and forever. My remembrance roams from is to was and tries to find the thread of Ariadne, which resuscitate me from my frigid crypt of existence. In vain. Only cosmic devastation, despair and disgust at life. No Gods to pray. Life is an unasked bestowal. The astral corpse, lost between worlds, Looking at me from the mirror. Excommunicated from happiness and married to desperation. Spiritual acupuncture and narcosis' tentacles on my pulse help me to cut out the nest of sickness. Flesh is only the cage, and blade is the key to it. I dissect cobwebs of pulsing veins, unsheathing gaping coal dark. Black oil drops are sprinkling. Indescribable hordes are gushing outside of me . I cannot scream with joy... Now it's all the same to me.