I’ve been looking for any trace of me, any sign that could take me back where I came from, I’ve been walking in all directions and they all look the same, I can’t tell the difference between who I was and who I’m becoming. I’m not drowning. I’m suspended. I’m frozen in the middle.

The End


Just some outpour of thoughts in intricately woven words. Expressions from lovers of imagination and their love for writing. Writings that shake and wake you, make you think, stir your soul, leave an imprint.

Just some mellifluous bits- their wordbytes.

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GREG RAKOZY xxxx xxxxx
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