We fight for our right to feed on other's dreams and wishes. But sometimes it leaves us full of desire and contempt. Desire for more, contempt for better. The dreams are not enough, we want them in your blood, running, feeding our soul until the body breaks down. We want to live by any means... but are we really alive? Can we dream another's life?
The seed is in, the heroes are not alive. We all live to live, and to try not to starve in this fruitless and dangerous world. But sometimes, destruction comes in our own hidden house, destroing from inside. And then you run. Like hell. And then some more, untill you can run no more. And then you try to kill yourself but that is a harsh lesson: a true-minded, reality-facing person will never be able to trully kill themselves. The truth lies in them and it defends their hearts as a rabid dog... They search someone else to kill them. Suicide by numbers: one in quite-a-few-friends can get inside and kill destruction at its source. The risk? taking your soul for ever or a long period...
You are destroing yourself. And then you realize one day that you've been searching for her or him, a knife-well-sharped wich does it in one, quick, painless stab. And you jump at the ocasion, fearless and hopefull.
And you die.
