"i tried to write the beauty. my ink withered and died. i wrote music, the syllables left the pages. i wrote romance, the pen's nib got broken. i wrote flowers, the petals fell off the stem. i wrote sun, moon and the stars. their love died. i wrote fairytales, the world collapsed. but when i wrote darkness, the ink dripped endlessly, like life is my veins. the paper tortured me to write even more."
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