In my grasp, a pair of glasses rests like a delicate cigarette tucked in
my fingers, their lenses capturing an iridescent clarity that dances in
the tempest of the mundane. Here lies the essence of a frightening
revelation—nothing we possess is truly ours; we are mere custodians
of borrowed treasures, granted at birth by a force that can reclaim it
all in an instant.

Time, is a powerful currency, but to us, is a loan—whether
squandered in idle moments or cherished in fleeting seconds that we
strive to make meaningful. We share breaths with those we hold dear,
our heartbeats intertwining in passionate kisses, exchanging words that weave love and conflict, and sighs that echo in tender submission.
Love, a paradox of durableness and theft, weighs heavily upon us,
testing our resilience with every blow we endure.

Beware the commotion of this world, for it will consume your very
essence, manifesting the wickedness of your heart. I have destroyed
my being countless times, only to rise anew, each rebirth a testament
to the lessons learned in solitude. From this solitary journey emerges
the wisdom to coexist with others in this intricate dance of life.