It seemed that time had crushed out the very life of me. I often felt to be flinging my arms up out of weariness. Often, I wished it had not dragged me to this slow moving world vast full of cruelty and prejudice. how I wanted so much to be back in to the wombs of ignorance and void, where I can still prowl the streets and prey on human thoughts. My desire to just separate unwanted knowledge from everything I am now conscious of starts to grow deep within my young body, beneath my age of two millennia.
One has called me to be from the gates of hell. But the flames, which I had never seen nor touched, never appeared to me to be worse than the sky falling. I am an evil incarnate, but why did it not occur to me that such heart beating and pumping of boiling cruel blood would be weak? Why? How could it happen that i, a predator, an epitome of decadence and debauchery itself, would shed tears of blood over the loss of my sanity?
I am my own paramour. Often I say to things, "I am thee". But now that I had it in all way lost myself to this battle I became uncertain of who, amongst millions of being inside myself, should i still take for an undying admiration.
Several times i felt how it was to die, of weariness and being killed. But blood never stopped to be flowing within me. At times my mind raced of various thoughts but they never came out to materialize. They just raced through and within and never had been brought to existence. How, that in my solitude I planned to transform the world into a new one, never had it happened.
This is another, out of a million dark nights when I linger on how much or less my existence has brought me. Another night of my third millennia having been in search of my own soul."