How's it happening that haveing my own problems I always find a way to forget about them just to help someone else? What's the point of living in hell and helping others go to paradise? Probably I'm just an idiot, right? I'd give my soul to tve devil if it'd help someone else... But it's just like not me at all... I mean it's more like me from the past, from before than the man I created after what happened two years ago...

I'll try one more time to regain my poetry, to write one more time like I was so long ago. I fust find myself again, and focus my whole energy to help the me... Still... That doesn't concern any of you, so... Let me help you, but do not try to help me. I must stand on my own three feet... Two feet.. Damn it!