Desolation

That's the face The Devil gave me when I told them that I couldn't stand being around them anymore. "It's not you, it's me" - I told 'em - and it all started there, in it's homeland. It's another homeland if you are wandering if that's what Hell looks like. It does not look like that, I have seen that place. Comfy, warm, but full of entropy. You cannot be quiet for not even one second. They lives in another world, in another dimension. Strange place. Everything can bend so easily. But well, coming back to this issue... I have never imagined that I could see such a degree of despair in someone. The realization, the inevitability of the argument, and the weight of the psychological punch printed that expression on their face. That's the moment where time just does not care anymore, it replaces with anguish, with fear, more like a dread, because that loss, that fucking loss will kill me. I will not be able to recover from this. And time does not have any other weight than desolation's. It's killer, it's incommesurable lack of reversibility makes ones life a big ball of puke, blood and pubes, going up ones throat. Maybe some teeth are inside that ball, lacerating your windpipes, your esophagus, filling that tube with the taste of coins. That irrationality makes us do stupid things, crazy things, because we think that it's logical to harass someone that rejected us. We can't believe that a person could do that to us. My fucking EGO, you broke my beloved ego, you fucker. Now I will follow you everywhere, I will write you if I cannot find you, I will try to find you and I will promise you, simultaneous with my anger, that I will love you like any other person could ever love you. I will curse you in your stupid and ugly face, I will spit your mouth with a false hope that you could maybe (MAYBE YES) be aroused with my spittle, and while you are drooling with that spittle, you give me back a "I love you darling, I will always love you". But reality punches you in your stupid fucking face. That's what happened to The Devil. They can find me easily, they can write me with their thoughts. A long journey began. I do not know what I will end up doing with them. But I am definitely not coming back.