Footprints of the lost.
Times when you think, breathe to understand more. Those are times I live every minute in. Life passes by like a dream and reality turns into illusions. We pick the strands that are left on the ground after the storm and search for the origin. The original path from where it all began. The complexities of the ordinary deciphers in a million ways. Boundaries between right and wrong disappear in the process. Are the questions wrong or the answer?
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