page after page she flipped, the bulky CD-bag she held was obviously way too overloaded with discs. one glittered in her eyes, calling for her attention. she reached down for it only to regret reading its label. for other than knowing who the artist was, she noticed the little details that disgusted her as well. a little added symbol here, a little extra turn there, which clearly reflected who its writer was. shaking, she tried putting the disc down only to fail miserably. she didn't mind when troubles decided to call or even pay her a visit personally, turning the path in front of her into a thorn-filled rocky path, for she believes the sweetness that often follows so closely behind.