I wish I had an off switch for my brain, so that every time it treads close to deep waters, everything will be all gone with a flick of a switch. It aches so much just to know it might be true, and just a part of me is desperately hanging on to the crumbling prospect of that being a false reality.

The picturesque view of the lush green meadows, coated with a sky of pastel-perfect shades of blue, blurred by a screen of white. The clouds roll with the gentle breeze, as the wheat sway to the rhythm of love. But come tomorrow, a thunderous cumulonimbus might beset this still image, crushing the tranquility into rippled waves of disturbances. Lightning crackles and everybody disperses; happiness cannot last forever.

There it goes again. It can twist anything, no matter how blissful, into a lackluster situation of bleak prospects. And sometimes, my heart can't discern what might be true and what might not, and it like crow's feet it claws at the tender organ. I can only live to remember the pain and hope that it will all go away.

Perhaps one day, I can strike this entire post off and say that All Izz Well.