Now, a man could say that he has his own world.
True enough, one cannot really live in another man's world. Only he who owns it can handle and govern it. Given his ability to rule, to plan and to make better his world. His life.
His story.
History.
It's always in the making. Always on production, given no known schedules, it just goes on and on. And yet, no one can substitute the director of one's life. The scriptwriter, the dilemmas and decisions he writes.
Now, what's my point?
We live in a world, our world, that spins... changing seasons in time. Now, it's just a matter of adjusting yourself to the orbit. Or taking risks in creating a loop with another orbit. But what's better to think about, you are in the same galaxy, the same universe.
What's more is that you still own your own world. Whatever happens. If you fail in life, shut up! I mean, a star explodes then a new star replaces it. May take longer than the others to grow, but there is still hope for something new.
Hmm... Burning like a phoenix. Death, cremation, life.
Wow, what a lovely way to burn.
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