I dream.
Of being 13.
The age where our Friend from above sprinkles copious amounts of awkwardness and uncertainity. Chocolate sprinkles over our vanilla selves.
An age so delicious on a plate of memory.
When sweetness was a natural course of life from within. Even when the world seemed all but that.
When being alive was an absurd question.
As if anyone could want not to be.
3 comments:
"When being alive was an absurd question.
As if anyone could want not to be."
:) Nice.
why 13?
:P
being alive is not an absurd question now?
abhi se thak gayi? I wonder where I'll see you when you're 98 :-p
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