Why does life try us, test us, to the limit, stretching out skin and blood and veins to the very limits of whats tolerable to see if we break. Why does life show us things that cant be ours, things that are so real, but so unreal.
Shades of grey in satin white, stark black.
They say life isnt without its own sense of irony. irony indeed. what you really really want, you cant get. you hope and pray with your eyes closed, bleeding tears in pain, hoping you would be heard, that your wish would be granted.
yet we dont lose hope, keep praying, for the sun does not set until the evening, and there is always a sunrise, just that at times, you dont feel the sunrise would be worth it. If it was, you dont really care how the sun sets.
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