The previous post is about real life, and how unreal it can be sometimes. It is about two people. They met on a Saturday, so everything inside of it reeks of that One Day. It is about that Saturday somewhere back in time, it is about a day. It is about those moments of mysteries. It is about losing something. It is about helpless closure that does not bring its healing touch.
It is about pride. It is about unspoken lots. It is about unpleasant energies. It is about distance. It is personal. It is about truth. It is ignorance. It is secret. It is laughter (how do you suppose the cheese landed on the teeth for the world to see?)
It is about mistakes. It is that time 12-3.30 and about facts, how things are surprising. It is about fiction, and poetry. It is also about cinema. And, it is about waiting. It is about the cold. It is more about words than sounds. It is about us.
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