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Bittersweet

The bittersweet taste of life...

    Salt the stabiliser.

   Sugar the intoxicant.

Each equally reliant on the other, attempting to strike that perfect balance. It is always met, but only in the end.


Chair Care (1965) by Edward Hopper

The look on an innocent face—the beauty, the charm, the elegance—leaves her oblivious to the world beyond. Hidden behind great white walls, she lives out a life without you crossing her path. Yet, it is you who would sacrifice everything to preserve her innocent beauty. To freeze time. You doubt that the feeling is love, perhaps mere infatuation. “There’s no future in it; I’m not really that dumb,” you tell yourself, but you know the truth. There must be a way... 


Rain struggles past the sun; another war continues. Your insides churn. Memories remembered and others forgotten, where love and infatuation battle with your willingness to forget. Times change, and with it, your feelings. Life continues a solemn quest to find your true self. The struggle continues, a path waiting only to be forgotten...


Hope is all you have left, but it is useless. With no real significance, it sickens your mind. It drives you to your tryst with destiny, but you know that dreams are stored in bottles with windows of wood. There was never any intention of it being a reality. The path is broken now, and the quest seems improbable. No, impossible...


You give up. Innocence overcomes your vision. The face, the times you shared, the love that remains a question, remains at best a question forever.

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