..... And there I was on my porch, rocking myself up and forth to the rhythm of an unknown melody. Unknown to myself and to the world. 🗑️ My gaze was fixed on the bridge that leads to my hut; while I smoked my pipe with the hopes that the fire I inhale will penetrate my lungs to my heart. Oh yes burn! 🗑️🗑️ Dear pipe whom I smoke, burn it all. Because every fibre of my heart has been murdered. Murdered by my own imaginations and the deeds of men; disrespect and betrayal. Oh yes, burn it all! 🗑️🗑️🗑️ When it is well cremated, do not worry about the chars. They will escape through my pores and valves. Dear old pipe whom I smoke, burn it all. 🗑️🗑️🗑️🗑️