rot as the stinking tofu

cold and windy and you decide to ride you motorcycle in the weather... what a idiot you must be! Came back home all wet from the waist down... you idiot. Rot yourself as you are fine wine that you think you are... but instead is it was the spoiled milk that you are becoming the from last week.

Is it possible that the place once call home, 3 by 4 meter room, the end for you and no where will there a place for you? is this it? are there more? question question question! That you are not able to answer, even not interested answering. Where did the internal flames that you have once burned in you heart gone to?