It is strange how people get attached to things so much that they don’t realise they are about to die. How likings grow to attachments, attachments to love and love to life. We people have a life where your blood is all that matters. It is spontaneous how people ignore beauty so evidently. I mean, not looks. I mean inside, deep down ; how actually the person looks, deep down. What is he made up of? Smiles? Hate? Falseness? Truth? When you understand these you’ll know what reality is, and when you know reality you’ll meet you. Yes YOU
I was awake. Everything was dark and fake. My cheeks dugged in a wet pillow, my eyes burning. Fluttering. Shallow, dark, lonely nights. I thought. Everything was asleep, down in the world of dreams. And there I stood struggling, struggling to return from a dream. I got up and opened the windows. October and autumn. Soft wind filled my room carrying the scent of that flower. That flower, that scent. Tears rolled down my eyes. I wondered how it has been eight years but everything seemed as fresh as yesterday. That autumn, standing out there staring at those scented flowers, wondering its name. Feeling movement and feelings around. I blinked. Dark. I wonder how a scent could weaken you. Certain things belong to a particular moment. Whenever you pass through it you cant resist that moment to come back, come back as smiles or just sour tears. Then you suddenly realise the memories are there but that moment, that moment has passed. Passed FOREVER.
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