time has setted me apart from the blog space where i share me experience, my crappy writtings, my feelings, ideas and all. it is mostly due to my lackings in motivation and inspiration. But today, i feel, as if the sky had no reason to be there; as if strawberries are meant to be blue; as if a child should worship Aphrodite and despite Ares. i shall write, something. something.
Interlude: the summary of how did it all happen, what happen to the window, what did the window- opening ritual brought/ gave/insight to the author/ the pseudo-insane pathetic writer.
nothing really happen, what happen was, it was a lovely day, he dicided to open the window, the window was open, and he felt a sleep on his formless bed, when he lied on the bed , asleep, he felt, here comes the dream, he dreamt of writting an interlude, he did not know what it meant, it meant nothing, in the end, he gave up, in the end nothing was given up. thus, nothing really happen…
Dear Carissa,
i would rewrite my thoughts, feelings, and memories but what is lost is lost, what is gone is gone. i can not undo what is done. it is most unfortunate that my intended words in the letter never reach you heart. i am regrettably shreded.
be well my friend,
love,
Malissa.
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