SyAnIa

The sky weeps a torrent of twinkling things: molecules, but people see the bigger picture just this time. Sakura trees embrace the humming wind and the cacti of death valley don't mind the drought. the bucolic lush green growth – A cure for the eyes, but they are erased blindly because not every leaf matters. they would turn blue if they knew. As johnny appleseed chopped his trees one by one, he exclaimed, "i would be lying if i said the redness of this fruit is sweeter than the taste of success." Vainglory. "memento mori," they shall chant marching to the sole spring that could blossom their thirst And their potted

"Hello," he says to her in the same genuine smile he has worn since they first met. The 19th time, she presumes. The girl glances down inattentively after meeting his eyes and replies, "Hello." He walks past her, tap, tap, tap, the sound of his grey sneakers she knows way too well (from staring at the ground everytime the boy was around) fading away as she marches on, every inch setting the distance between them further and further. It is no big deal. It has always been her dream to never part with an individual, but it seems as if these hellos will by no means end. Never were there goodbyes, or see you laters, or catch you tomorrows, or wh

It wasn't even 1095 pages yet but it felt like they've known each other for longer than 5 novels, thought the words and papers would keep turning, but they don't. Book 1 She wasn't interested, she was shy, he was neutral, he was young. It didn't take long for her to like him enough to give him a birthday present. There was a trait about the new neighbour that destiny has planned in order for them to form something special. It was only the second chapter. They grew fond of each other as time went by; but before you know it both of them were already having an argument - it was in May or April, she can't remember, but it was a childish reason.

Whenever she wakes up in the morning, she looks at her mobile and sees the time. When enough sleep is preserved, her eyes stay awake until it's time to shut them again for deep slumber. Every early hour of the day, the girl walks up to her window and stares outside. Sometimes she remains like that for a few seconds and it can go up to minutes, but never hours. She simply sits on the couch and watches the purple and pink sky, gradually forming a pretty shade of blue. When all was visible was coloured nothingness, she sighs and leaves, but if there were puffs of white clouds, or signs of the moon or rays peeping out, she stays. Maybe sometimes