No power to even affect others. Are my visions getting better. Or are they just becoming clouded. I'm just a fake. I'm just a fake. Ruins resulting from the beauty. Ruins resulting from the beauty. I cry to the mirror. Not only am i a coward but i drown in. People's charms. Only believing only in my maths and ideals, constantly fixing the bugs. Only my stupidity kept growing Just a show off made of lies. Drowning in my ecstasy by stating at the fake in the mirror. Nothing in both of my hands. Nothing in both of my hands. What's inside the beauty is just a filthy sense of inferiority. There's always a thick shadow behind something gleaming with light. The fake has fallen. Nothing can be done by the time you realise. The holes that suffered a horrible gnaw are FIlled with inferiority. L was too attached to the beauty. I broken the mirror as I realised my filth.