in the end we are all alone. no matter how much we try to merge in the name of love, in the name of companionship, in the name of passion, in the name of… not being alone… we are destined to end alone. for we don’t really know if that last beat of the heart that awaits us is not just the end of everything. the end of love. the end of memories. the end of time. so we better devour and enjoy every moment we spent alive in the most majestic of ways. it matters not if alone or not. as long as it leads to life, to ecstasy, to any kind of bliss… and most importantly… as long as it doesn’t involve the broken unhero of the true love. the one that fucks up again and again. fails at love. continuously. till the end of time. yet… still… holding on… to be washed over… straight into beyond.