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I will never forget that weekend. His eyes were the bluest I have ever seen. Magnificent twin sapphires, beautiful enough to seduce even the most hardened of heart with a simple, tilted glance.

He was dead, murdered. He was taken away from many mortals who adored him. Without him, this world would never again be so vibrant and alive. He was my first victim.

The night is hardest time to be alive but it is my time.

Grief, torture, loneliness, melancholy...

Night is time where life ends and begins.

It's like never ending black hole. Often I feel like I'm on a edge trying to climb out but the black hole is thick and it is weighing me down. I see reality and I want to be in it but the force of a black hole is increasing in strenght.

I know I need help. I know I have to be stronger or move fast before the black hole swallows me again...

Sometimes It's a fight for my life.