At some point, even the greatest misery begins to fade. Life, or what passes for life, plods on in it's own unending weary footsteps, and somehow we plod along with it, if we stay lucky.
I clearly saw us from outside, like in a picture: we are not people, we are a road sign warning: __top and thank luck because such fate didn__ befall you as befell us, and only then keep going your way_.
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I clearly saw us from outside, like in a picture: we are not people, we are a road sign warning: __top and thank luck because such fate didn__ befall you as befell us, and only then keep going your way_.
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