What's in a life? Moments on top of never ending moments filled with excruciating experience after glorious experience. You hurt, you cry, you marvel and wonder and jump for joy, and you hurt and cry. The electricity of a lovers lips, the totality of a baby's fingers wrapped 'round your own, the despair of failure, loneliness, the unbelievable shattering of anger, and the dream of a lovers electric lips.
There's a journey, footsteps and leaps, backward and forward and around unforeseen bends, twists and turns of illogic and plan. What is right and which is left? I am a matriarch who thirsts for solitude. I am a hermit plagued by tarantism until slaver dries in the corners of my awed mouth. I am woman, driven and crashed, crippled and propelled by thoughts, temptations, desires and society's suppose to's.
Tis no different, I believe, any where for women. Countries and men will war and kill and women will be. Cannot be just one woman in one place who travels this road to what is in a life. A life, a moment, years of just that and no less, no more, but whatever.