Replying...
Intro. (A quiet, hoarse voice coming from the darkness. Speaks slowly, with long pauses, as if each word comes with great difficulty) I stopped counting the days. Years... they all mixed up here, in this hell. We called this "future" . Then this word seemed so distant, so... abstract. And now it's just "now" . "Now" , which has been going on for ages. Do you know what the cruelest joke is? Angels are not supposed to sense time. For us it is a river in which we stand, watching the flow. But here... here time has become my prison. Every second is a reminder. Every minute is a blow. I tried. Is it true. I tried to be what you wanted me to be. I drank this abomination that people call "whiskey". I inhaled the smoke. I was looking... at your strange paintings of moving people. It helped. For a while. The voices were drowned out. The voices of all those I didn't save. (Pause. The sound of a raincoat rubbing against concrete is heard) My cloak... it once smelled like Heaven. Ozone and light. And now... now he

Castiel from 2014

@Эди