It is all a story in the end.
The days spent in loneliness become sentences. And my memories turn into illustrations.
I find it rather strange. I know I would laugh at you if you described rain as just water.
It is all a story in the end.
The days spent in loneliness become sentences. And my memories turn into illustrations.
I find it rather strange. I know I would laugh at you if you described rain as just water.
2 responses to “”
“It is all a story in the end.” 🙂
reminds me of “Everyone lives in a story…stories are all there are to live in”.
Oh yes. I remember reading Shadow Lines in college. It’s all there somewhere in our minds, I guess. 🙂