Dishearted and lonely trying to maintain
this frail existence. Could it be the end?
What is a man but the sum of his memories.
What are we but the stories we live, the tails
we tell ourselves. Anger and grief clouded my mind and would have consumed me, if it was not for the wisdom of a friend i could call a second father. He taught me to look past my instincts and even he might not fully answered my speculations he guided me well to learn from myself. I was free to choose and all that is good in me rekindled again. Thank you Mr. Socrates i wish the best.