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"to the space"
It's the kind of time where nothing makes sense and nothing makes sense to you indeed, that stops life in its tracks and causes time to bleed.
In this time of age where man is lame and lame is he, the course of action presented to me will make a god heed. To cry is to weep and to weep is to slide from the grasp of living land, the thing that shall wilt and we shall sink, that little thing called sand.
But thruth be not that we are immortal in this little thing called space, another meeting of atoms and neutrons to fill the god damned place, the place that is here because of our sense's, that indeed doesn't make sense of need. We try to hold eachother together but all we do is bleed.
