Castes never meant that much to me.
It's just the way it is. The sky is blue, the sun is bright, and Aspen endlessly loves America. It's how the world was designed to be.
Could it be that simple? Tell one story to one generation and repeat it until it was accepted as fact?
You get confused by crying women, I get confused by walks with princes.
Because even though you're dating five other women, I think I'm cheating on you.
Is this a good time to pat your shoulder?