Somewhere deep inside me, is happiness. Security. Comfort. Somewhere inside me, but none are triumphant. Stress likes me though, a lot, I'm afraid. Oh just to think of the things I would trade. To be gone of my mistress, my headaches, tight neck. That ***** I call strain I would pay to forget.
A thousand gold pieces, a million copper. To cope with this ****-up and cull my taut suffer. To rest wrought resilience and shame the old trophy. A new era, new chapter. A new world where I see: Security. Comfort. and Happiness triumphant.