The universe never complains
When you’re wrong or right,
She always loves and cares,
She always gives and shares.
When you get lost she becomes the light,
Helps you to find what is right.
But she never forgets
To show you the light.

A place of a king of quiet villainy and secret lust. A place where the dirty dreams of every twelve-year-old man-child were visible on the bus station’s bathroom walls in hand-scrawled tattoos of ladies with oversized breasts and inappropriate female genitalia, inaccurately portrayed as a singularly dangerous triangle of doom. Those kinds of drawings set me up for a world of confusion.

I believe in kindness and karma-which could make me a Buddhist. I believe in mystic healing and crystals’ powers-which could make me a witch. I believe in truth, honor, and forgiveness-which could make me a Christian. I even believe in the existence of past lives and that each and every one of us is watched over by guides from the other side-which, to some, would make me totally woo-woo squared.

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