a post from someone else stealing words from my journal … or could be anyhoo
You time is my memory.
What is it called which hurts the most? What is that simple thing that makes you realize your gravest mistake? Why is it that, it being just in front of our eyes we want to ignore? There are a lot of questions that whisper silently yet screaming in the head. Pain ah, man’s ultimate solitude. A fortress that we build in the name of pain and its outcome. Without pain, there is no gain. Someone said it and that humble someone is probably right. But how does it fall into place? How does it know when to fall in place? Time, a morbid concept of reality, tricky yet precious, at the same time.
Let me start by first apologizing to the people who apparently think that I am not good enough for being a friend. For the past 24 odd years, I never had the liberty of…
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