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September 17, 2009
i would swim to the pool of time machine where you and i were together. where everything seemed right. i would close my eyes and my ears, and search for you using my heart. give me back the hands which used to touch your hands. and i would never wash them. just to feel you again and again till we become a reality. this is sick. can't believe that i composed this. this is sick. i can't believe it was you who sang in my mind to draw the words out of me. nope. this is literature. this is art.