Tell me, what is there to do? They say we can not see the path we are on while we are on it. As days blend into years and years escape the moments, time itself becomes or became the watcher, either in the future or in the past it presents the present. And here it is.
What is there to do? Make choices, fake decisions, accept certain truths. The truths which were determined by time, the watcher.
So now tell me.
Accept, I guess… I do. With little or no reason. I simply do. Because I can’t tell myself what to do. Can you?