This is a short confusing story that I have Just made up.

A piece of my story that I am writing.

If you understand the following, you belong in an asylum.

A little something I wrote this afternoon,
while I was sitting in my front door.

Someones trapped in a very eerie situation.

The number mean something.

It will take a lifetime to work it out, even then you might not be right.

A small poem about finding yourself and your beliefs.

Fate sticks to its rigid path.

Isnt life confusing? I know.