The memory of the day of destiny is like the eternal torture of the burning Abyss. It was the day that I was choosing the accomodation in a cafe, before boarding on a ferry.
Remember...remember the sight we saw, my soul? that beautiful soft summer morning...round a turning in the path...a disgusting carcass on a bed scattered with stones, its legs in the air like a woman in heat...burning and sweating poisons...like a fountain with its rhythmical sobs.
I can hear it clearly flowing with a long, murmuring sound, but I touch my body in vain to find the wound...I am the vampire of my own heart. One of the great outcasts condemned to eternal laughter, who can no longer smile...
Am I dead? No.
One day or another, I will end such disgusting journey myself once and for all.
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