am talking to an old flame, and it revolts me with such perfect moments which are unfortunately, just distant memories. how i wish to be back there, i tell myself. but reality hits me like a raging wave. ah i'll be alright

so weird but true; we're always chasing for something beyond our reach, trying our hardest to claim identity on something which we can never be ours, but we still do it all the same. always embroiled in this relentless pursuit of grappling with what 'could be mine'

when happiness is just right ahead

but i let it pass