Maybe you’ve understood by no for men like myself, t is, melanc excuses for maintaining eternal loneliness, life offers neit joy nor great sadness. I’m not saying  relate to otrary,   fat our souls sink into at sucimes. t turmoil dims our intellects and dampens our s, usurping true joy and sadness we ougo experience.

    I ure of condolence, embraced my ears so a large cus me e, and I didn’t knoo do. ory. In one fell sled me, and become master of ty of my tears? But believe me, it  like t. I truly ed to grieve, but couldn’t: Eniso me t since te’s final

    ablution never stopped babbling, t my Eniserious circumstances spread among tanding in tyard of t  my inability to cry to be interpreted negatively; I don’t o tell you oneed” is.

    You kno test t “o prevent someone like me from being banis cry on tried to ant relatives onisies to summon a doears; I t about being ter of take cuation, but just t t of panic. as it ed to save myself from t .

    It o tunned.

    As I exited tyard, I found a mud-covered silver coin on to go to t I side in trees and people. I t I’d befriend t sen ty before facing tioner, attempt a liged conversation  t, ties of life, t on trangeness of a cloud in t alas ed me, proving a ratigicing ely stretco t  t after marrying Ser all t made my and on end. It ice of dying at torturers  h her.

    e didn’t oerrifying spires of te, beyond urers and tioners sao t tory s cleaning itself in tnut eaming nostrils turned but didn’t look at us: t