Suddenly, The streets are tedious. The traffic is unbearable. The coffee is tasteless. The outings are more like obligations. The mornings are gloomy. The afternoons are unplanned. The nights are void of any excitement. Suddenly, My hands are cold. My mind is composed. My skin doesn't tingle. My heart doesn't flutter. Suddenly, What was once… Continue reading This place doesn’t make sense
There's something so personal about holding a book and flipping through the pages, always mentally counting how much more is left from this world and how many more worlds are waiting for you to explore them. There's something so intimate about entering a reader's mind and deciphering what could possibly lie between those lines. There's something so captivating about our attachment to characters which teach us not just about themselves but mostly about ourselves along the way.
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