It was like bringing together water and oil. Any effort useless. They’re still going to create their own circle of grains.
Such as maintaining roses. I am planting, I watered, I nurture, I care, I argue. Even when you’re growing, I was hurt by thorn. But your beauty, others who may enjoy. While I? Too busy to treat my pain caused your thorn, too busy to still take care of you. Because if I’m careless, you will die. I do not have time to taste you, feel your fragrant.
Like screaming in a vacuum. No matter how hard I tried, my voice will never hear. Because there is only “nothing”.
Like writing with black ink …. on black paper.
As the air blows that always trying to make you cool. You can feel his presence. But You really still can’t see it.
Like the zero multiplication. How big number that you gave, the result is always same. Zero.