Who am I to give you dreams and then spread snow all over them? No one would do that if they are in their right senses. But sometimes, when nothing remains sacred anymore, there is a sense that comes with breaking rules and running away from multitudes.
Now, the words themselves have lost meaning I guess from the time I last uttered them; totally meaningless chatter full of nervous laughter that doesn’t make much sense. May be the Gods are cruel because I am cruel to you; or may be they are not.
Only time is judge as to the torture that I inflict on you by giving dreams one day and spreading it with snow the next day. Words don’t mean much do they, but let me say that I am sorry for all this mess that I make everyday!