I can't concentrate, my head is not straight. I need to migrate, coming from the void into outer space. I need to create my ongoing fate. Thought apocalypse erodes my mind. There is never enough time. To congratulate, no time to hesitate. Everything is twisted, constricted, contorted, imploded, exploded. I want to go back in time. I want to see space. I don't want to be part of this race.