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Nothing is real ’till its gone

Maybe as the leaves began to fall on the freshly manicured lawns and the birds stopped singing, it meant we ceased to exist. Maybe it was because the sun refused to set and the stars refused to fall. Maybe it was because my toes were cold or my head was high up in the clouds. Maybe it was because without the earth and the sun and the grass and the stars we would never have been. Maybe all of this is the only proof of our existence. The only proof that you and I ever existed. Together. Our bones and our love letters will be the only real evidence that we existed. There’s nothing else. No pictures.No dark forbidden spur of the moment memorabilia that entwined our souls together. nothing.

Or maybe we never did exist.  Because if we existed, we would have felt more alive. More whole and unnerved. More shattered and deprived of innocence. Cause come winter, everything dies. Almost nothing grows in winter. Nothing is real until its gone.

Winters here. Smell it.Breathe it.Touch it.Live it. Before its gone, and you’re left with nothing.

Again.

 

Yours truly,

Painted Shadow

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Author:

I stare at walls hoping that something would guide me to another dimension where everything makes sense. I take life as it comes. I reside in which is now known to be the fastest growing city in the Middle East, Dubai. Surrounded by fake greenery and dusty air, I long for rain. I long for rain to drench my very being, untill i feel nothing but clean and revived. I dream of happy things and i know for certain that Peter pan and pixies and fairies and Santa exists. I know. Because theres no point in not believing. Im a child. I am a grain of sand. I am a speckle of dust in this polluted world. I am a spirit roaming the end of the earth, trying to find that wall. (Read the page Painted shadow for details)

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