*excerpts*
a rainy day..
a familiar season..
a familar room..
some nostalgic music...
..put the pen in my hand.
I tell you a lot of stuff naa?
hmm?
don't I?
I donno here, whether I'm writing a diary
or speaking to you..
..aren't they both truly one and same to me as is speaking to myself?
I just glanced out of the windows of my yellow room...
the sunset window shows a sky deep-red-vermiliion, while the hues on the left mingle with a bit of blue....
do you know something?
that everything I've done...
I'm doing..
everything is for?
No comments:
Post a Comment