Haha suffering

I drown myself in imagination more than in what people call reality. Her smile is the cosmic cause, I still remember her figure stronger than the way I'd remember my name when someone ask for it. Sometimes I'd laugh and be happy for an hour after waking up from a dream world where we're still picking each others' strings. I still understand the way she would talk and the way she walked, flowers would bow to her humble confidence. Beauty cannot be denied and its strength is inevitable. No literature in the world would challenge this dynamic given by both the past and the unknown. The force is too robust that I'm now outside the predetermined limit. God couldn't crack this power, my effort is beyond sin. The stars envy and the mortals are left confused. Kings would bend their knee to my ideal qualia, they would remove the word Love for its imprecision to the light I've obtained from the extreme edge of existence. Please ask me to hold your fucking hand again one day.