The curtains were not supposed to be drawn this early and you shouldn't be here.
Why watch anything but a well-crafted performance?
The costumes haven't been sewn yet and my pencil isn't sharpened
What follows is no script, no work of literature
There are feelings with no story, a maze without an exit. Like a train ride that lacks a destination
There are no vibrant colours and wide smiles for the camera
Just letters with no recipient.
Just words floating in the sea, sealed tight in a bottle.
