Nonsense

𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽.

all fever dreams unwind. // ℳ '25

a collection of musings from a sentimental idiot. © 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩-𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨, 2025

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔， letter written in the soft twilight of memory, where every sentence drips with the honeyed sorrow of a love that lingers like the last ember of a dying fire. it is a voice carried across the distance of years - whispering through the pages, touching heart with gentle ache of what once was and what might never be again. in this intimate confession, time folds upon itself, weaving past and present into a fragile tapestry of longing, regret & hope. each word is a tender caress, a delicate reminder that some loves, though lost, remain forever etched in the soul's quiet corners, waiting to be heard again.