maybe someday, somewhere, we'll eventually be okay.
maybe it will hurt less. or maybe there'll be no more pain. perhaps the hurt will continue to the point of numbing, and we won't feel a thing. and that's okay.
maybe people will care someday. or maybe not. maybe the words of authors and songs of lyricists dead and gone will prove better company than homo sapiens. and that's okay.
maybe time will stop, and we will keep living. maybe there will be no such thing as time anymore. or maybe it all ends with a full stop. period. and that's okay.
maybe someday the rain will stop. maybe someday the sun will shine again. or maybe not. maybe we'll live according to the mood of the clouds and the rhythm of the storm. and that's okay.
maybe someday they will see the effort we put into things. maybe they'll be put in a position where they can finally understand our heart. or perhaps not. maybe we'll just depart and move along eventually. and that's okay.
but until then, we're not really okay. and maybe that, in itself, is okay.
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