Relationships gone wrong, are like sour milk, they belong to the sewer. 

We go back to our ex-es because, they are our established comfort zones. A safety net.

During a fight, what do you think will be the first bullet that leaves the gun?

Mutation.
Mutation, is almost always a revolt.
Against a lover.
Against your mothers.
She loved my hair, so when she seized to care, I chopped my hair.

Just like Maggi.
Just like Laila.
I chopped my hair in the 23rd chapter of my life.

Nod nod, "That way no?" I asks.
Lady nod back.
The way she say with nod, I go there.

I see no light. The road is very up and down.
The nod lady sent me here, so I come.
I come to Baba.
He do miracles.
My small baby, is burning with fever.
I went to doctor, but medicine not working.
My mother in law told me to go to Baba.
So I come.

My little baby,
He is burning.

"Come to me! Quick!"
"You've done enough." The words seemed to have life. The paper, rolled up and kept under the rock. The Gestapo couldn't touch him now, maybe. The promises made to return the favor punctured his soul. Death did not arrive for him, not yet. But he killed himself.
Bit by bit.
Day by day.

Tired.
That should say it all. This is how it feels I see, when it finally feels like there is no more looking back. No more heartbreaks. Nothing more to lose.
This, is how it feels when you are letting go.
But, who am I lying to? It will keep coming back. I will always be that recuperating cancer patient: feeling good one day, and cursing this painful existence the next.

But, someday it will all cease to matter. I will be at the brink of that dangerous freedom that day.

Peace.