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I've spent too much time inside my own thoughts.
I think it's time for them to become real.
I don’t like speaking plainly, nor giving clues from the start.
So this is all there is:
This is my world.
Here, my word is law.
The darkness of the night is the one and only stage.
Light is deadly.
The flickering flame of a candle... horrific.
Not every story has a happy ending.
Some barely last long enough to be called that...
And the ones who seem to achieve it... don’t deserve it.
There are no bad or good endings — just endings.
Motivations don’t justify the means, but they do explain the outcome.
No story will have two identical opinions about who was the bad guy or the good one.
No one is entirely good, nor entirely bad.
But there's one thing they all have in common. It's pretty simple.
The passage of time.
The desire to remain.
The desire to keep walking on this earth at any cost — to claim a place...
That’s what moves everything.
And then, when the final death comes, being remembered is what matters the most.
What purpose is there in existence, if no one tells your story?
The only certain thing is the passage of time.
Yet, even the passage of time ceases to matter when you’re inmortal.