As an artist, all we do is dance to the whims of the universe, depict a truth, from an often required perspective, plotting away, according to the world's story, strings pull, and we jump as we smell the scent in the air, in the end, what determines our success, is the quality of our garbage, and all we care to expel, but it isn’t a question, it’s a pen and its function, the truth of it displayed, so many diseases, diamonds in the sand, and smoking meth by the dumpster…

  Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.