A man awakes in the middle of a vast forest---He is broken and his flesh is doomed but he isOnly half way through the years of his life,However twisted the streams however bitterThe dreams he must cling to what little light---He must write, write, write so here are hisThoughts this is his record not romance But the kind of sensations only a person Who has lived the limits of life on this earth Can know: just follow along and flip the Pages as I give you an account Blow by blow
