Son.

Son, I have met many broken men, some I danced with, some i was an object to, some I took the role of a healer, some I was nothing but a decoration for their amusement, some punched me in the gut just to idealize how it feels like to be powerful and some lured me…

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To hold on, To let go.

Why are you so scared all the time? Why do you fear the processes of letting go and holding on?” It is a complex thing. When I hold on, I fear that maybe whatever I am holding on to will find a way to escape my grip, and when I let go I fear, maybe…

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