I don't get nearly enough credit in life for the things I manage not to say.
I am almost a hundred years old; waiting for the end, and thinking about the beginning.
There are things I need to tell you, but would you listen if I told you how quickly time passes?
I know you are unable to imagine this.
Things Happen and once they start happening you pretty much just to hold on for dear life and see where they drop you when they stop.
The things that break your heart when you think there`s nothing left to break.
Every war has turning points and every person too.
The facts of his existence are plain. I know that he will never silence those unspeakable voices. He heard how people killed, and how they died and their voices infected him, coursed through his body, poisoned him. He didn't know how to turn off the noise, or turn the hate back out onto the world like the rest of us. He turned it on himself. You could see that from the scars on him.