In life I know there's lots of grief/but your love is my relief (B.M)

(73) and for a moment, it seemed like the bleeding stopped.


In a moment things change, sometimes for the better, some for the worse. Sometimes in life we try to script our moments and we go out of our way to painstakingly ensure that everything goes according to script/fairy tales/whatever fancy dreamy story we have. And sometimes the story just takes a form; and the word - one enunciation too slow, a tone a tad bit different, the glance - a moment too late, an ounce too intense, the scent - a whiff too stale; and everything changes

"it has been said that something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can cause a typhoon halfway around the world" - chaos theory

The cruel thing about life is that the stories never turn out the way the scriptwriter expects it to be - the moments turned out wrecked, the moments don't quite encompass the fullness of the night or the warmth of one's company. And when that deviation is spotted in the dead of the night, we become lost in the very own world we created. We try blindly to deal with the lofty dreams being shattered, we struggle against an unseen silhouette and we let the pin-drop silence of the night haunt us - and then we try to find some weird way like thinking 'maybe if i write it all down, if i try to let the words explain what they cannot express, perhaps i might feel less' - but it doesn't. and then, we just don't know where to go from there.


or maybe the heart just stopped pumping.