It is not real, this is not. it won’t last – this is but a phase.
I don’t quite know what to think of this anymore, because I’m pretty sure my emotions are far from being in check. For paths to have crossed in life was perhaps fate, but whether to think beyond that is another matter. how long will this sustain – because, truthfully, the blank slate before me is black-washed.

And then, parallel it to the song on replay: I think one particular line from the song perfectly sums it all – this thing, this feeling, everything. The volatile nature poses the possibility that this/everything might very well end up in flames. Indulge, and the sadness that wells up when it ends reminds me how much this is but a dream.


“This moment will just be another story someday.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower


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