I think I remember why silence is a virtue and some things we just have to keep mum about. Not so much that it's secrecy will guarantee protection and comfort, but to avoid being falsely accused of wrongdoing and misdeed. Because no one will understand it better than yourself, and for that, you have the mirror and a lifetime of imagination. No one will believe the circumstances and nobody can truly empathize.

It is true that there are always two sides to a coin but we only always consult the surface that reflects its face-value; a fair analogy, we oftentimes take a situation's face value as its true worth without bothering to flip over and hear the other side out. Your two cents worth doesn't count for much here. There are always two sides to a story, but ultimately, people can only choose to buy one.

It is less inexplicable than it is inextricable; it is not a phenomenon that cannot be explained but a stigma that cannot be removed. It would be a complete waste of energy to dissect the intricacies at hand for one, let alone many individuals, and sometimes you just want to throw the towel in and let it all sink quickly. A dying man would rather spend his last breath taking in the scenery than channeling his last bout of energy to flailing his wearied arms to no avail. When you're stranded in the wilderness without a light at the end of the towel, it is far wiser to surrender willingly.

Circumstances is a strong word, or can be one depending on what truly binds you. It is strong here, to the point of no return. These are the fine print that come coupled with a contract and just when you thought you had been discerning and careful enough, having been a victim of one's own success before, you end up mired in yet another tangled situation, quite literally bound by circumstances. It's hard to say who actually needs a real counselor because when you are tied down by things, sometimes the mirror itself would not suffice.
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Green is a mix of blue and yellow. Blue is a hue of calm and calamity; it is the radiance of the waves that beat down the ocean, ushering in the sea breeze and swaying in motion with the rhythm of our hearts, but it is also the tell-tale of death, the sign of a flood or a tsunami, an essential that in overdoes will rip us to pieces. It is a facade and a deceiving one at that. Yellow is the color of the smell that is sour, a tangy odor that incapacitates our olfactory, a blinding reflection of what we don't want to face and a subtle reminder of all that used to glow. But when you blur the two together, you get a heart full of injustice and insecurity. You get a rope, and you tie someone down;

bound by circumstances.

Sometimes the truth will never be told. But most times, that's ok.

Because the truth never changes.