To Exist Is A Habit I Do

We Inhabit A Language Rather Than A Country.

We Define Only Out Of Despair, We Must Have A Formula... To Give A Facade Tot He Void.

Only Optimists Commit Suicide, Optimists Who No Longer Succeed At Being Optimists. The Others, Having No Reason To Live, Why Would They Have Any To Die?

The Fear Of Your Own Solitude, Of Its Vast Surface And Its Infinity… Remorse Is The Voice Of Solitude. And What Does This Whispering Voice Say? Everything In Us That Is Not Human Anymore.

The True Hero Fights And Dies In The Name Of His Destiny, And Not In The Name Of A Belief.