It starts and ends with love. For eachother, for what we have been through, and lived. But first a love must start. The love of a mother and father. An instant bond towards eachother. A pot of combned ingrediants which create the every aspect of your life. With these ingrediants you blossom or die. The roads on this highway with millions of different directions. Your once guided life can be swiftly deserted. A life can feel so pretend, so useless. A uselessness felt in your spirit wanting to be usefull. A road wanting to take. A culture of trickery confusing your dreams and knowledge. Sensations filling your life. Trespass of pain. In this life noone can be content. Places of manifestation and an existance of greed, power, and conspiracy. A place where religion is most sacred and most dishonest. A place where greed can consume the natural love of a mother and destroy a father. Self taught to survive because when your alone thats allyou have. When does a reckless life become ideal? When is a lost identity found? A desperate love abandoned and unfulfilled. Trace back. Back when nothing but happiness mattered. Nothing but eachother. It starts and ends with love.
