Void of a soul, I roam this realm of life in a gelatinous cage. My thoughts are antecedent of past revelations, the harvests of past experience. My emotions are the human clauses that came along with the contract of life. My reactions, the weird Pavlovian response bounded to the laws of emotions.
Time is a remedy that does not heal, but merely narcotizes. Alcohol is a mitigation of the eventual reactions, an exclusion clause fine printed underneath the chapter of emotions. Bounded by such humanistic laws, I couldn’t help but think if I am hollow… A shell which subsistence lies in the very meaning of purpose...
Today is Christmas Eve, but here I am, transversing through the net to find everyone unavailable... I guess everybody is celebrating the dawn of a new Christmas. But life goes on here, in this cell of mine... Tapped and knocked upon by essences such as love and hope, I could only respond to them in a constant sepulchral tone. The reverberation, an answer of my own...
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