its like living a dream, waking up with a head no heartfelt knowledge that something inside of you is dissimilar in however abstract way you can't fathom, but delight in anyway. truth to be told, while its evident that this short lived fantasy seems too good to be true to a certain extent, beyond the disbelief and queries the latter remains all immaculate and perfect. And it is within this every inch of perfection that lies imperfection itself but there, brings out the perfection within and with this perfect being present, happiness is only a given. One can only hope that all these emotions go both ways.
seems like i need some divine intervention for my writing already.
On a side note, i like long eye lashes.
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