finally lost, eventually found, but no matter, i prefer the ladder, why escape when i can present, for this present is my everything, no matter the past or future, but the now has so much more power, sick and tired of taking care of the sick and tired, so now he aspires to greater heights and finds love in the forks in the road, but always turns left, seemingly following some circle, not a deja vu, but an existence that spiritually is older than socrates, so it's okay, he feels fine and just asks for another shot, not vodka, but whiskey; it clears the mind, or so he thinks...