A serious day on all other's sins...

I left this note for Honey on how much I knew her and she knows me.

Dear Honey,

The curse that flows right into the vein kills the woman with sorrow. Stress is insane. You too won’t live forever in the world of pain. But then to die young is no alternative for gain. Revolt, revolt. Death again. Survival is objective; pain is no gain. What life serves takes away life in the current state. Still to dispute, still to refrain. Life heals many. Healing is not from the base, nor roof is involved fully in the game.

In stress survival? You talk of palace in the air. You need to stay away, calm down self when stress knocks. Insane, insane. The dear ones that need you living kill you by stress anyway. Like the air that makes breaths possible breaks your home beyond repair. One day, as storm, like the water that feeds your life, kills off your survival point. You cannot drink the same dirt in water again. What an insane. You cannot face more pain. You are forced to face by them who are sure deat