I woke up in the morning with reminisces of a half finished dream, a short lived happiness really, only to be crushed, heartbroken by the reality of cold shoulders. Almost like creating beautiful patterns in the sand only to be washed down by the mercilessly mocking sea. For some things in life we are prisoners to our own wishful thinking, enchantments that runs beyond our means. Entrapped, far from the subtle realisation, that it is not the pain rather it is the desire that maims us. There are things that are simply beyond our reach, no matter how  much of ourselves we put into its pursuit, there will be the existence of the continuum intervening between you and that desire. There are certain broken things that can never be put together,pieces of which are far from fitting together. I wonder, is there anything more gruesome than a weary soul withdrawing and watching a relentless wish dying, gasping for breath desperately.

How I wish, I had known better. How I wish I had not wished for all this.


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