some think that i do not have a story to tell, that life is peaches and that the world is my orchard. Looking through from the other side of the glass, my life is short of nothing but perfect.

I do not deny that i wake up every day thanking the powers that be that i have my most prized possessions in the whole wide world; my loved ones close and safe and that is my only pre-requisite for a perfect world. however, everyone has stories to tell, be it dramatic or mundane. how can one go through life never touching others, never being touched.

i have stories to tell but i have none i can tell.