The personality killers screamed, plunging into their imagination - schizophrenics. Hands of people in a black mixture of loneliness. This whole life will never end. They screamed, shouted, shouted in their heads: “Help!”, but people behind the TV or behind their new mobile phones couldn’t hear them, they plunged into this wild stench, hiding the smell of cigarettes in their pockets. Only moonlight makes its way through the skull in this world of window reflections, I hope that you find yourself. Know that this book is a book about life. So small, but so happy. Contains obscene language.