Same age, same method, a knotted string takes away the breath, it chokes him.
Eyes are already closed, suffering never ending seconds
with the hope to find a light, a light that even if it shines like the sun is imperceptible.
Only the alive ones remain, to question themselves,
to make suppositions,
to make judgments.
There will never be answers but only guilty, attributed and supposed guilties.
When the darkness fills the eyes and the heart then the time is finished,
there is no wealth, no poverty, no love.
Suicide is not egoism, it’s not about exposing yourself,
it’s all about pure pain, uncontrollable pain, a pure act of love and sacrifice.