FM
История
The Universe is Empty. There is no life in him. Black, cold, the surrounding space. All too large for a single man. Only billions of galaxies and stars – nothing insignificant. So big, and so small for a single man. Without sound, without a bit of breath. Somewhere far away beyond the borders of the senses, outs of time, you can hear hopelessly long cries, sad, never-ending monotonous song of emptiness. Emptiness fills everything. Even hearts so far full of life now are dead. All overflows undescribed sorrow, starting off where everything was beginning. The memory is nothing; the memory is nothing when you can not use it.
Each star, which dies, dies in me. I am a part of this never ending emptiness. And being in foggy memories, grey – faded as cosmic dust. I can not feel anything because I can not feel it. A special black hole is in my center. I absorb more and more, but in fact I do not have anything. Amazing black, deep unlimited black. Darkness nothing more, there is no light. Each star died. Empty-planets without life. The whole universe – so big. The last days intensified the desire of hope, the desire to find myself. Far flare of perspective changes driven every day. The hours, days, months, years are irrelevant. Waiting gradually turned into the reluctance, the reluctance into sadness, sadness into pain. Far strenuous pain, of all colours of grey – the colour black.
