A deep breath in. A look out, into the big world, with a bright blue sky and fresh green grass that smells like love, FEELS like love. FEELS like the past, FEELS like happy. Memories cloud the brain, as it desperately tries to fight off the almost disease it has been exposed to. Nostalgia. Memories. Past. They're weaknesses and silent killers, not the outside effect but the inside effect. Each tick of the clock that passes becomes one you wish you never witnessed. Because it hurts; time. "It's a healer". No; it's a destroyer too. There are illusions no one will never understand because that's the way they were made, to trick. And that's the way it will always be.
