Sunday, September 04, 2005
Why do words and thoughts fail me in times of great need? At times like this, I wish I had my piano to bang on, but nothing makes sense anymore, and no music can be made for the past two months. My hands are beladen with worries not only that of my own, and my feet - painfully nailed to the ground with conspicuous truths which I have grown ambivalent to. So I'm shrouded in a melancholic cloud of my own devising, where everything is tainted with bitterness and sorrow. Oh, for days that were long gone, for the golden moments of child-like joy! And I continue to yearn, much against my will, for that lost epoch where everything was unmarred: where the dreams we dreamed were gloriously simple, and forever immortalized by their perfection.
she procrastinated @ 03:00 |
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