Dear World,
Today is a song, the plaintive melody echoing in the expanse of the somber autumn sky. It is a song made for tears and forehead kisses; a musical reminder of death and beauty.
Today, I feel like dressing up, just like the leaves are dressing up and dying a beautiful death.
Today, death has colored my thoughts and dreams a scarlet red. I tell my friends, it is the color of love I dream about rather than the color of blood. My blood. I dream of the day I die as others dream of the day they marry.
Today is a song, and my soul is singing the melancholy tune.
I want to be remembered for my smiles and my hugs, for brightening people’s days though I can never brighten mine. I have this feeling that people will remember the way I die more than the way I lived. Many people think I haven’t a care in the world because I’m always so damn happy.
When is a smile a mask? If you wish you were as happy as you seem, is the smile you wear a mask or a goal? Pessimistic reality battles my optimistic idealism each day, but lately it’s been different.
Reality is winning.
After all, we are all just funerals waiting to happen.
Lamentations 3 :)
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