This is the story of the story that spilled, some other writing exercise, bold words are those which I heard in today's mind/music playlist, and all this turned of to be the story that spilled. Spilled ideas, and states of mind from this flying kite. Read it straight, upside down word by word, you might be able to spill some ideas of your own.

World is strange. I remember the tree nights when you took misery to a holyday and slowly thought of a private place to go before the devil played with us and took us straight and forever to stay tenderly inside that book. I even love the face of the friendly people you know. Today was it, time to quit my job because I suppose I deserve a sign that shows my eyes how to smile without the need of pain, nothing better than a friend to come along and expect it. I keep misreading the rent bills and biting my lips, the sky fell and broke the flowers, they tried to jump into the air but they couldn’t make it. Yesterday the wet street made a bike trip and fall though the world. So I decided to begin this story before I sing everything how it goes. My moon! Follow me to the next whiskey bar you find and certainly, we must not die today.