One…two…three… all dead before my eyes: First my father, who I thought I hated, Then my mother, And finally my baby … my baby. I knew he wouldn’t kill me, though; I was already dead… 5 -- Where Fear...
Sometimes I imagine I’m alone on a cool, green mountain, High above the fear, the violence and rage. Clouds wash my face -- thin air wraps me in stillness… If there is only one word to describe this moment,...
In the end we all, I mean each of us, is really nothing more or less than a reflection of what we’d like to be. We are what we are – the secret is to be at peace with...
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