I thought about my own life story and the people I've met. The ones who either went through my index or folded the pages they found interesting.
A lot of people I've found like the idea of you and who you are, but seldom appreciate or understand the reality of you.
I myself have we through some indexes and folded some pages or even read some books which I finished but did not have much of an impact on me or my life.
What is it really all about?
I feel like I'm a magical book that never ends, there's always pages and chapters added mysteriously everyday. It will take only the brave one to never want to put it down and read it for the rest of their lives. If that what loving me would be equated to.
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