if you had glass of wine with sentimental taste of rich centuries contained in a wood barrel from Vineyard predated to 1905 in your hand, bottle that would cost two story building full in such wine. so here iam the story of my life. stranded by confusion. chains by guilt, shame, fear, lost, failure, the line keep on coming.
what really... is to be empty inside? I hated the festivity. I felt I was dragging my ass through the mud, and for what! or who?! when I made a move it's was calculated to serve a purpose. I thought, I walk in my old man shoes. diplomatic Alliance sorter thing. hell, I batch with, no resistance at all. perfect son driven by approval from dear old dad.
Not too long the clock start ticking and the handle turn and everything around me begins to spin. a world beyond my control is manifesting. I keep rolling the glass...