questing for perfection is like searching for a needle in a cosmic haystack but what if the haystack was actually a dream, and i'm just trying to find my way home?
lamps are like brief relationships - they shine bright for a moment, then fizzle out, leaving you with a faint glow and the haunting question: was it ever more than just a spark?
Can I say I love you today? If not, can I ask you again tomorrow? And the day after tomorrow? And the day after that? Coz I’ll be loving you every single day of my life?