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There is no truth. Only lies, deception, and hate drive me to walk. Hope and care make me sick. I stare in the face of death and laugh as I play riddles with him. His bones clatter as we walk through the hourglass of my life. The pieces fall and click, each one a small shard of my forgotten soul. The hate that surrounds me is my only friend and the complexity of my body can be stripped of everything only to find a core of hate, sitting there, waiting to burst. But it remains in check as long as I have control of it. Pleasure is obtained by my knowledge of the fact that I walk the path of loneliness. No one to hold me back, only me to push me forward. My fists are raised only to win. Failure is an option that I shall never achieve. The wind calls to me in a demonic voice, luring me into my purgatory that I have always been trapped in. I move through life as a single unit with not one attachment. I spin wildly with complete control, yet never knowing where I will end up. Waiting for the needle to hit the record, to play the song of my death. There is no god, no heaven, no hell, no good in the world. There is only evil

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