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!
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