82 years, seems like such a long long time.
in 82 years, and the journey has come to this point.
and yet here I am, somehow where i'm starting is connected with the last of yours.
what forces make it so?
everytime i think about it, it takes my breath away, and I think there was no better time to have met.
"they used to ask me to talk, but they don't like me anymore becasue I stopped talking, its more important to just do it"
where ever I end up, its still some kind of continuation of yours.
so i'll put into it the same kind of life you've given it.
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