There she was, sitting above the clouds, engulfed by the melody of the harp. She made no movements and stared blankly into the horizon. Wondering if life could bring her back down to earth, hoping to meet him once again.
A voice calls, a voice so strange and yet so warm and familiar. She spun around, trying hard to catch the source of the familiar voice. Finally, she gave up looking, thinking it was just a mere imagined voice. What she didn't know was, there was something more behind that strange voice. A mystery awaiting to be revealed. D:!
-----------------------------To be continued ------------------------------------------
p/s sorry, no time to write! xD
n. the awareness of the smallness of your perspective, by which you couldn’t possibly draw any meaningful conclusions at all, about the world or the past or the complexities of culture, because although your life is an epic and unrepeatable anecdote, it still only has a sample size of one, and may end up being the control for a much wilder experiment happening in the next room.
Words by http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/ because come on, it's BEAUTIFUL.
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