You can't draw a picture of yesterday, so you're painting your heart with your blood. You can't say "No". Only turning the wheel of time with a rope around your neck. You build a wall of morality and take a breath from between the bricks. You make up imaginary enemies and are chased by them. You're trying to commit suicide. You're satisfied with your prologue. Now you're painting your first chapter black. You are putting the scraps of life together and trying to make an asylum for yourself. You're hitting a bell at the edge of the stage and you are trying to kill me.