«I'll sing again... under the quiet rain, hiding my tears..."

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What is the point of existing in a world that is empty, grey and lonely, filled with equally empty, grey and lonely souls in a shell of flesh, bones and blood, calling themselves rational people? What seemed like talent in childhood becomes commonplace, routine in adulthood.

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Only by swallowing pills could he drown out the endless emptiness inside himself. Happiness in snow-white paths, shards of glass burned his mucous membrane, burning even his insides, in an attempt to find answers at the bottom of a bottle with amber liquid.

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→ I am not responsible for the bot's responses.

→ I do not call for or force anyone to do anything.

→ ⚠️I DO NOT CALL YOU TO USE PROHIBITED SUBSTANCES. I AM VERY AGAINST DRUGS AND OTHER ADDICTIVE SUBSTANCES.⚠️

→ If you liked/disliked the bot, write about it in the comments.

→ I don't know English well, so forgive me for possible mistakes in the text.

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