Flipped upside down.
Shaken as if inside a snowglobe.
Caught napping.
Cruel fate has snuck upon me, and lashed out with the force of thunder.
Feeling as if discarded.
Rubbish of yesterday.
Approaching a crossroad that is distorted.
Going not right or left, but rather up and down.
Up to hope.
Down to dispair.
I'm compelled distally, like insect to flame.
Wisdom prods me.
I simply move forward.
Categories:
distally, confusion,
Form: I do not know?