Ill will

Calm. Empty.

Until the feeling comes again and hurts me as it did time ago. I want to forget it. I don't want to feel it anymore. I try to escape from it but it doesn't disappear.

Here it comes again. It strikes my stomach, it freezes my soul until I feel my body is cold as ice. Time turns long, so long that I cannot see nothing but what I have now, and it is nothing at all. I loose my senses, cannot think... I can't do anything but hurting myself with thoughs that hurt me more and more. Death could not be so horrible at all in comparison with such a feeling...

Everytime I die I come back with huge ill will and hatred. A new form of emptiness invades me. No matter who dies, everybody is dead in my mind right now. Nothing matters.