Black Void.
Once I was something I almost don't remember already. Now it's only a haunting shadow that left behind me - heavy nostalgia, I'm persecuted by it - or used to be, now it doesn't matter - and indifferent, all-consuming void. That's what the world is now. And me. Me too. Me in the first place. Because I am the only thing that seems to exist. Exist, right. Or even inexist, trapped in time wasted for nothing. Forever. It's all for nothing. I'm nothing. The Void. I am Void.