The road going to his house was full of images worthy of being awarded the Pulitzer Prize, but never before been so aware. I enjoyed every step, allowing his influence will burn and mark, entering each of their senses and pores. I'm not the best time to discriminate between good and bad, beautiful or ugly ... I'm not making utterly, or to distinguish between emotions and potential . I could feel the beating of neuroplasticity that happened in his heart, his twilight reasoning. His melancholy ( Blues) had become creativity, while their pain (Pain ) had been able to rise above the problems. Noise (Noise ) that surrounded him dissolved between mercury and obsidian, an ancient ritual of a culture that had not yet existed, but with the blessing of Knowledge had decided to reward.
I'm starting to understand ... better, I'm starting to learn and accommodate these lessons that I am suffering. And I owe it to you, but I will thank you . On odd days not usually appreciated. Now he was resentful and angry. Impassive.
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