[CoL] 20. Diabarha - Dying in the Ashtray

--- Fear --- When it’s beautiful and depressing at the same time. Thought it isn’t possible, but it already is. - Life is a cigarette. Once lit by your parents, and given to you when the light is stable and precious. Since then you decide either to smoke, or put the fire down before it’s gone by itself. Or just to watch how it slowly burns in your hand, and counting down the minutes when you can’t smoke it anymore. - Reality is an ashtray. It’s unavoidable we all will decease, our ashes gonna be buried down in the ground. Dirty and awful place, where we all belong in the end. It’s my choice, it’s your choice, it’s their choice what to do with the cigarette; we know the place after, then these remains will eventually create a new life, and they won’t even know thanks to whom they exist. Dump the ashes, we’re doomed and forgotten. Can’t go back. Can’t predict where are we going. We are the ashes already... remains of someone. Possibly our