We slip as the tick tick of clock runs quicker than our minds. A plan or path, whatever you may have, never seems to follow step by step. Here you sit with what could be regret, but then comes second wind. Like a tornado of reckoning, the urge to reconcile ceases to exist.
To find yourself.
To find a new life.
Good luck to you.. I have no more words left..
I am going to leave you soon…
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