I want nothing
And should not even I continue here
The unit of measurement for the disgust is precisely this angle
Why to consume pleasantries – impulses?
Why do I worry about the loneliness of others, when my loneliness is authentic?
although do not entirely owns me in round herself
You can take all the things
I do not hang from any objects
The testament I wrote explicitly: your name, one by one
Take this haze called heaven, take the intake called existence
for some time …I exist in outside, ex-ist…
Here is no longer here, it swallowed of a beyond beyond, where even if I wanted to I have namely something
I do not have hands to grasp; I have no body, but only a fantastic opinion
Do not cry for me, not even hypocrites, I’m not dead, just that
I do not want anything at all…
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