What if we have lived somewhere else centuries before? What if present time is really a gift, a second chance from some divine entity in a deep hope that we might get it right this time? Do you think that you’ve been trying hard enough? Have you been dismembering your destiny from your soul, like I have? Have you tuned your ears to hear everything else but self in an attempt to vindicate yourself from all the sacrilege? Are you trying hard enough? I wonder, if hearts could write letters to their owners what might they say? Would they be permitted to reveal the secretes they hold? Have we been here before? Fucked life up with bare hands and were sent back with the same heart by a mourning heart? (i feel like my heart is consumed by an unspoken tiredness of the familiarity)
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