1998. With each new bend and each fresh stretch of asphalt unwinding before you like a red carpet to glory, you feel invincible — a force to be reckoned with as much as an unstoppable storm cloud bursting forth from nowhere.
ㅤㅤLOST. Upon this sullen night, I linger by the rain-soaked path, where drops doth fall with a solemn rhythm. Each ripple born upon the water's face whispers the weight of heavens' tears, as though the sky itself weeps for a truth long forgotten. (..)ㅤㅤ