if you’ve ever been foolishly alive before then perhaps you know about the discord that nostalgia can create within you.

perhaps, you have been silly like me, and placed the warmth and fullness of your thoughts into the burnmarks of where a better memory once stood. the feeling that accompanies treasuring ashes is a deeply sad and shy loneliness; it’s is a hopeful love dancing madly in circles. you see, when I think of the past, I like you knew where the story would end. but I still allowed myself to disconnect from the reality that awaited me because… it was a lovely story.

and the protagonist, my quiet and eternal muse, I still wonder how the story ends for them. But if you’ve been a fool like I have, perhaps you know that there are more stories to be written still and there exists only room for reckless joy; the ink on your hands from a tale long closed is never ink wasted.