Life has come to a standstil. This is the moment of selfhood in an entity eliminating order. The calm, the fullness before a silent destruction of the world as we know it. The giant orb of light, which eats everything in it's growth. A blinding blast. The Mushroom cloud.

From the depths of the crater, I try to climb out. Yet freedom above is a burned and barren land, in nuclear-winter darkness as far as the eye can see.

In the struggle to forget, I find how much every aspect of my life was built arround every aspect of you.