domingo, 12 de junho de 2016

Our Own Little Escapism - part I


Sir, what I have asked myself during these latest days was all about memories.

Memories to share. Memories to create. Memories to contest. And memories to relive from the past.

Will we pass through the same path we once scalded our way in before? Will we pray for an invisible force to deliver us from the darkest sorrow? Will we survive this journey without a fight? Will we finally win this time?

Memories fall through countless nights and days. And this intense mixture of feelings we have right now does not fix anything that was broken. It is a mess. A chemical, holographic mess. It is even doubtful that any medicine can clean the best of it off.

And yet, as we were told many times before:

Only time can answer.

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