He was calm, peaceful and thoughtless, he didn't need to think a lot or to worry too much about anything, it's not because he is selfish or something, but it's that he does not see anything but a tunnel...a tunnel with hazy lights and colors covering it's wall, at the end of the tunnel there is a red light swallowing images sounds and swallowing us for sure.
Even though he hated fear, but he could never free his mind from it, he was sort of masochist, he enjoyed the painful life he had, and the taste of blood he bleed in fights was a kind of luxury for him, he wanted to beat fear, as he wanted to free himself from everything keeping him chained, such as money power and society.
Time has passed, and he kept on running, when he freed himself from fear, he started on dedicating his life for art, because he found beauty only in art, he also believed that art reflects beauty people always neglect, which is the beauty of humane soul.
he considered himself as a wicked sinner, and he was hiding behind ink and colors, hiding behind the beauty he has created, which is also the beauty he cleaned his heart with.
He sought after her, but his EQ was not high enough to find but her shadow, and it was pity that he was not enough initiative, not because he misses the guts, but because he was always pessimistic.
His tunnel is too short, he accepts that, but he does not expect reaching the end of tunnel that fast, one day while he was the enjoying the cool breeze of the dawn, everything has changed, colors became so sharp, and his room got thrown into hell, he started hearing sounds, he started feeling the time has come.
The seven words he wanted to say were stolen by the wave that killed him, That wave was a scream that he will never forget, and you will never hear, maybe.
