Chipping, Producing from a pinewood to the toothpick. She has cropped an inorganic matter in her body. He’s suffocating in the sea of estrogen. You stray from your bloodline, you yield yourself for a strange effect. Once revarded, once hit even as a dog on a training, to behold the etiquette and the limit between grown man and child. So many kind of man, so many kind of personalities. Do we agree with anyone? I have passed the main period of my life, and this pendulum wont swing anymore. It rests in calm and peace, I think the poise has been restored. I’m facing my reflection, there is no parallelism, nor chiral symmetry