true beauty is always painful... it penetrates into the deepest corners of your wicked soul... the confusion makes you sick... stairs that go from nowhere into nothingness... remember Bulgakov's Master and Margarita? you can help it, it immediately comes to your mind... people coming from nowhere and then disappearing... people with no faces, no identity... they are exposed and underestimated... captured and tortured by xenophobic vertical lines and horisontal schizophrenia... only shades, and no true and full colors.. just shadows of fear that mingles in every single pattern.. the threat that grows with every step - it doesn't matter if you're going up or down...
you don't know anything.. neither lies nor truths.. your mind is blank... the only thing you percieve, is the fear and the threat... the realization that you will fall and fail, or both, if you finally learn, the lie, or the truth, doesn't matter... if you simply know...

не знаю в правильном ли формате, но первое что приходит на ум... хир ви го...