It is hard to accept that the quietness of the world envelopes you, much more if there’s no other thing you can find that could break the deafening silence now creeping into every crevices of your body. The knife-like stabs of noiselessness, the itch of eternal longing for raucous laughter, the hunger for your words—these are the things you have always searched in the time of isolation.
Maybe this is just of those days when you must find bliss in the midst of gloom settling above my being; just like this particular day which happened to me before.
Okay, pardon me for the tendency of being too sweeping when it comes to misery but I admit I miss the days when sheaves of little rectangular plastics were skillfully dealt with snickers and gossips upon the table where l gathered them and searched for the lonely King of Hearts. That's all.
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