Most Stable Balsa Wood Bridge

too often it seems that time does not pass, and yet everything changes.
A year of change. A year of hard choices and difficult, but still solid sn ... still ... .... decided
And the words seem to me the only way to find in all that I am facing a common thread.
That something to say that I'm wrong, that my choices, good and evil have brought me here, where they are right now and what I did.
And if you were just an excuse what I wanted.
I go to bed with the suspicion of not knowing who I am and where I'm going: more and more I wonder I'm lost in a maze.