Eggs cannot be unscrambled.

Each forward step we take we leave some phantom of ourselves behind.

The obscure we see eventually. The completely obvious, it seems, takes longer.

Losing an illusion makes you wiser than finding a truth.

Believe those who are seeking the truth. Doubt those who find it.

Inshallah

Dear God, if you are there, please make my heart stop for a moment tomorrow.

Statement

I'm finite.

But what's harder to remember is that,

I'm a work in progress.

Witch of Portobello

Perhaps it comes as a surprise for some that I'm still writing here even though this blog or rather its writer has been declared dead for half a year under a convoluted string of circumstances. The writer, blessed be he, may be gone, but some ideas still live on beyond the date. I'm merely a guest writer in his stead, and its my hope to keep the story running alive.

I was inspired by this particular book of a witch whom had likewise died without a trail. The entire book being the post account by people, some who knew her or knew her not at all. So how well did we all know Joel? I knew he could be jovial but was oftentimes wandering about in thoughts. Thoughts are dangerous when complicated, and I believe that was what that killed him.