and now I cant change. and when you're crawling away from all the fighting and bloodshed someone shoots you in your foot again. and as the hour hand and minute hand meet once again time slips away and two more years will pass. I'll learn to enjoy, to live, to last, to endure the 25 people around me like it or not. because I'll try to convince myself it's not the worst as I stand safe in the distance ignorantly witnessing other deaths.

this is the death of beauty.
and the sea is wine red.