The road of lesser things is a softly padded road, one of comfort and ease, but one of discontent and unfulfilled joy.

Just when you think you've gotten into gear, life hits the brakes and sends you through the windshield. And when you're laying on ground amidst the shards of glass and twisted metal, you realize that you were traveling in the wrong direction anyways.

I am proud! A pride filled bastard even, not in so many open ways,
but it still leaks through the cracks of my humble shield.

There are many folks I meet who make me wish I was not squimish around blood.
for I would murder them .
perhaps it is a good thing that I am as such.