Written by How is that the roads run to the places from where we come? But we see what we want and it differs from. The ones ahead of us and the ones behind. In the end, it matters most what we came to find. Then I still realize that in all of this I am the fortunate one. Maybe because I left in the dark, but stuck around to see the sun.
Some say that it’s better to be lucky than to be good, then some scenes just appear, and that which was lacking is suddenly good.