I think the most frustrating days are also the most exciting.

The most tired days are the most rewarding.

Days that become weeks, then months.

The longest days of our life are surely the most grateful.

Days like these.

The witches of the moon.

The rabbit from the south.

The dragon master.

The sun.

The drunken driver.

Thousand lighting crowns and screaming maniacs.

Months that become years.

First, that becomes legends.

Neon that becomes gold.

Fur, sparkle, and fine leather.

Crackers that becomes wine.

A thing that becomes everything.

Please last longer than this.

You’re not like others, why should you try to be them?

Their happiness doesn’t reflect yours.

And there you are.

Sad, getting through the day.

Probably thinking everything you don’t like to think.

The least you think the better.

All is never well.

And I think, your happiness is better than theirs.

Because it’s yours and will always be well.

Sometimes, I don’t think people shall cover their face with another color.

The standard becomes higher and they want to be someone else.

Thicker.

Bloodier.

Blacker.

Lashier.

Minutes after minutes.

Mirror after mirror.

Maybe you’re getting better, but not younger.

Maybe you’re getting what you think you are.

But you’ve just become relative.

And colorless.

The worse thing is, it’s not permanent.

When it all wears out, I think your true color is the prettiest.

Lima dan enam.

Lalu sembilan dan tujuh.

Setelahnya empat.

Dan tinggal dua hari.

Sebelum tujuh tahun berlalu, ketika empat mencapai dunia.

Untuk kemudian dilupakan waktu.

Sendiri dan pergi.

Long may she reigns.