A land called undecisiva

There is a land called undecisiva and i am their queen.

Population is sparse, mostly women of different races and faces carrying baskets of whines and cheeses. Men are inferior, clueless mind readers. You see them jumping in and around the swings and shifts of their womens' moods and whims. Something about the air, or time or sun or sky that causes reversals in the atmosphere; a shift so quick and sudden. Total darkness at noon and bright sunny afternoon. It is a place and time, ever so mine. It is my land, my country where changing minds is the trend, promises are bent and the air tastes like fickle.

Beyond my seas is a land not too foreign. Legend has it that we are sisters. The land of dramatica and undecisiva existing under close kinship, under same reverence for emo.

I know I said I'm done. But darling check the time, it is past morning and almost noon, that's old news, expired and forgotten.