I like the hollow melancholic sound of an old piano.
It paints a picture, rustic; sitting in a corner. Something possibly overlooked but once discovered is magical altogether.
I want peace.
I long for serenity in a distant place, where no one knows my name, where I have no past, haunted by no memories. Just the present. With soft sunshine and a mellow breeze, I am content, and not in torment.
Some tell me, death is what it is.
Visit me
For the larger part of my life. And perhaps funner? :)
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I’m guessing you are over me,
I guess it’s bravery.
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I want to quit caring. Why can't I stop caring? :(