I.. I.. I just can't move along. Sometimes, I wish I could be like you. But then again, I have no idea of what you have gone through in these three hundred over days. As for me, I have moved and stopped, moved and stopped.
Somehow, deep inside, there's still that tiny spark, that little desire. To see that welcoming figure, that familiar smile, that undoubted laughter, that warm and fuzzy feeling.
If only today is the seven hundred and twenty ninth day. If only.
To let go of the stars and lie in greenery? or the other way round?
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