sometimes,  from time to time, when I'm alone,   I fake cough  to the extreme point of suffocating. In those tiny seconds of incapability  I feel the miserable process of dying, the despising sound of my voice growing  into a silent tremble. in those shivering moments of absolut sickness,  I can feel the scent of my soul  consuming itself.  my depraved mind is delighted by the torment.  sometimes,  from time to time,  my mind wishes the cough could last  longer  and longer