Just when things begin to make sense they’re often robbed and everything that circles around is merely a reflection of chaos amid the sea finding solace in bleak portions of whatever little you are left with illusions imprinted. Yet you wish once again, defying the rules in your own silly ways to carve phantom of dreams; perhaps attempting to become a survivor. Sometimes you assume the authority to live it all and seize the life, but then the air is heavier than it is and hits you right in the back of your head when you start believing. Minute by minute the lullaby turns into a noise, bidding the farewell to frisky circus savouring the toast of colours. Mind gazes the emptiness fading into nothingness, clinging onto the traces of everything gone by, seeking for things that aren’t meant to stay either. Yet for once, the journals are maintained in silence.
