EB

You never want to see a heaven in the sky until you’re drowning in tears. Even then, it isn’t until I look in another’s and see the fragments of her heart through the ocean in her eyes that my thoughts drift towards a hopeless hope. It is most likely fleeting, but I can’t help but wish that pain could be a currency to purchase something great. The senselessness and depth in which it penetrates are equal yet uneven, and yet there’s nothing to be done: it’s chaos in the most impartial and truest sense.

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