Hanging by a thread, how strong is the chord that holds you and strains you? Breaking down, you've fallen in the trapdoor in the sun, blinded by its burning light. How come it isn't so? How come it's everything you know? Nothing is gonna come for you now. That's what you've known. Way to go, for someone who wanted to be the nothingman, you really got it. It's never too late to make something different, they say, but what do they know. I never know anything or think anything is to be known, 'cause everything can change in a millisecond. I'm giving up entirely now, I will not focus anything now, no object, no element, there is no possible capability or strength (or eye muscle) enough in me to transmute anything; there never was, was there?

(on instagram because of a The Crow card with brandon lee hanging on a rope)