Cul-de-sac, that's where life seems to have come to a screeching halt. The deluge of passion has suddenly dried up.
There is something great about insularity, it allows one to be true to himself.
Parsimonius, thats what I was meant to be, I thought in my seclusion? Is this the guiding principle of life?
Bridges connect pieces of land. But if human relations start clamouring for bridges, they are doomed. Bridges are artificial, they connect, they dont bond.
Human bondage dont need bridges.