The ninth journal entry:
It was a choking bombshell that was dancing in my stomach. The day that your skin was raining, I knew it was the last time I would smell such wonder. I felt a lighthole developing in the sky, my cold and quiet heart full of love and hatred was watching the beauty of the world being swallowed by that hole. I could´nt avoid to feel deep sadness, tears were falling, it was hard to admit such emotional destruction. The river that ran over this twilight, I dreamt one day and I´ve promised myself to bathe myself in these waters, but now is time to feel the the spits of dreadful ice falling from a grey sky. I´ve reached to a conclusion, this is not the right path, this twlight has finally reached oblivion. Will other rivers born in this arid environment? I have to meet my other essences, and discover their possible or impossible existence. We shall meet in the metaphysics, this forgotten river shall be summoned in pleasureful dimensions.