I found that typing my life and my thoughts out is actually an interesting way to uncork my heart.  Time passed by like a piece of super fine fiber set one fire, if they are super fine, then they should last longer, it was fast, it was easy.  I found myself sitting on a chair with my hair long, hands empty and mouth open looking into the sky begging for a heart of forgiveness, a heart of mercy, a heart of peace.   Once  I had a pair of knives full of blood in my hands and still stabbing and slashing onto them continuously until my muscles on my arms are fully used, hoped they wished they never lived.  Living in the acidulous  sourness and bitterness, unbelievably corrupted.  The intoxications of betrayal, lies, plastics and smiles are like the cankerous red wine continuously corroding my heart.  One day, I found myself sitting on my bed, looking over the memories that are soothing my mood, but the only thing I see in my eyes is the distortion of the truth that I think I believed.  Begging for peace, begging for mercy, begging for forgiveness, begging for.........