And there we are. Broken, exhausted from all those thoughts swirling around, screaming for attention.

I believe there's paid in euro or who knows not even paid to the double whose bed is spread by the princess as long as she keeps the 1,5 billion to pay for her personal expenses, money royalty don't work for and refuses to pay taxes over whichbseems to be a royal thing and makes clear where the blue blood runs (hint: the direction of corruption/criminality).

Are those cotton cobblestones made in India, Indonesia or by bored royalty locked in the highest tower in the desert guarded by an old woman on stormy nights?

Let's hope no king or prince will arrive on a horseback,knocks at the door to take shelter for the storm. Nothing is for free and begore he knows it his horse has to carry one clumsy person more who will surely fall of the horseback into the sand and be trampled by the poor nervous horse.

Life is by far not a bed of roses, only if they have thorns it is a possibility. Roses are getting rare, just like flower shops and gardening..

At least a princess can do what she likes (sleeping, eating, directing slaves into the right direction.) unlike those attached to wheelbarrows, concrete, sand, needles and pins, pencils, whips and those falling asleep in the park dreaming of a white Christmas since snow just like sand and cotton cobblestones cover and distract.

A great, at times funny story which reminds me of several people.

♥️🍀

One against all and all swallowing the dirty tricks of one!