Death is a promise; your life is a lie.

Time is passing way too quickly. I was about to close this tab but then I realised that I haven't updated this space in ages. I shall quote what a friend said, "When I am silent, it's just cos I have nothing to say. Nothing to say means don't talk." Fair enough.

Last night I was musing while taking a slow stroll around my neighbourhood at half past eleven and I saw a guy smoking at a corner. I thought about how we all have a form of escape. Whether it is through drugs, alcohol, mindless sex, drawing or even writing. Maybe we all just need a medium to express ourselves. To escape from this hurt, this pain... even if it is just for a while.

Maybe keeping myself this busy could be a good thing, because I'm forced to not think about anything else. How much time has passed and I don't seem to know you anymore. And that makes me sad.