Number 112:12 P.MNumber 1
Personal Note
I've been locked in a metaphorical cell, been metaphorically castrated, yet I metaphorically bear a sun and have a daughter on the way...
I've been drawing, and reading, and writing for a short while only, yet it seems to interest me far more then my current path in life.
Why is the only question I can't answer. The reasons themselves change much too quickly and violently like the seasons waging war on one another, yet I manage to stay tranquil, and calm, and collective throughout the dispute, of when and why, how and where, who and what.
The only other q
