The trap of my life is a cage made from bars strung together by my bad decisions. Each piece of metal, each layer of lattice and each lock that holds me in place, is the end result of my own labor. The roads I chose to travel have guided me to the suffering I now experience.
Unlike the youth of today, I know the fault is with the visual echo I see as I peer into the looking glass. There is no one else to blame, and I look for no one to set me free. I trudge through life, shackles causing me to shuffle along the road which remains ahead. Thankfully, the road in front is much shorter than the one behind. My travels upon the highway of misery have helped me to gain insight into the plight of others. I understand that the hope we are always preached to believe in, is for many, a false or non-existent hope.
Life is a cruel bastard. Life damages us. Life breaks some of us. The stories I tell are of those damaged by life, and pushed so far they became broken.