Prologue

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"If music be the food of love, play on. Give me an excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken and so die."

 I closed my book as I read the line written by one of my favorite authors William Shakespeare, that pinched into my calm heart. Funny how this line incapacitated the tranquility of my resting heart. Reminding how the past shattered me and devoured my virtuous soul. How it slowly made my harmonious pumping heart worn out from all the anguish it has to go through. How the word 'love' made me someone who'll die without it.


Love provided everything that I needed, it made me feel all the sensations and emotions that it can offer me. It furnished me in every way that it could. It bombarded me with all of the feelings that just made me lose everything. Love gave it all, that all I could do was take and take until I got used and tired of it.



I thought that maybe, love is the answer in every single one of my queries. That it may be the instrument that will lead me to the serenity I was longing for. That it can be something that will give me a state of peacefulness. That for a moment, it'll be something that I can swagger off.


Yet. After all this time, it only made me question love.










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