Beautiful sting. Water in the bucket meant for the drink, spilled on the road with the tears soaked in the accident, while we are living in the wilderness. Open, from afar, watching connections come apart from colorful impact to oceanic embrace. Some travels are forgotten, some are fatal, some do get lost with fear in the eyes of those who still steer, who still hold hope - for the bitter end, for the rest at the crossroads where sorrows are left. For the rest, we can cradle, or we can weep for another tomorrow - as everyone behind follows, again.