...and I do write now as I dragged the razor-knife upon my wrist long time ago. It's not the same relief, caught in the dephts of a soft, wadding-padedd pallet: it's the feeling of a stream of blood and thoughts that doesn't flow, a deadned noise inside a concrete crate...
First note found on the floor
...and I do write now as I dragged the razor-knife upon my wrist long time ago. It's not the same relief, caught in the dephts of a soft, wadding-padedd pallet: it's the feeling of a stream of blood and thoughts that doesn't flow, a deadned noise inside a concrete crate...