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Changes

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Nobody would love changes. You and I—we’re the same. And them—even those wayfarers are too. Time passes by too quickly, don’t you think? And which life did I miss?
Should I alone stand amidst the crowd?
Turning back the tides of time and walking back the footsteps I marked. I’ll make sure I won’t turn around too fast. I’ll make sure I’d face forward while tracing back.
Watching you. Watching them. Every memory I don’t even remember leaving out. Everything right in front of me as I step back.
Why, then, I stop.
I capture one bit of song back in the day when the heart was complete. Gazing at this fragment he loved, and let it remain inside the crystal glass.
I realized then, I stand alone amidst the crowd.
The hands of time walk forward, and I stand still, frozen. Yet my eyes wide open, and the world spinning around twisted. Watching every moment through these pair of eyes I wished I never had. Because I no longer see you, anyone.

Only their backs.

Their backs, I followed. Then I stop looking. I stop chasing when a thought come rushing in.

What use of a crystal glass? For here I am the past itself, caged within a changing façade, the constant move of the world. Once I stop moving, I can only glance back, for I am the present flowing towards the future. This, I might have known for so long.
Yet you and I must admit the awe and woe of the desire to keep the crystal glass in that dream, keep one fragment frozen as the sand runs out, following the pace of time.





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