The irony in tragedy.

People make mistakes. But they say it's okay - we'll learn. We'll be smarter the next time round.

Yet when it boils down to the real deal, we never really do learn. It would unfold like the same script borrowed from the ancient Greek tragedy; we fall deep and fall into the same trap the stage sets for us right from the beginning.

And we bruise. We don't stop bruising just because our old scars heal. The scars never really heal. They are just hidden away from view.

It hurts. It hurts so much that the screams come out unheard. The silence is overpowering. We laugh, because it's so funny. We, silly fools, puppets of the Irony, we swirl around to a frazzled waltz, and it gets slower, slower. Slower.

We never stood a chance against the engineering behind your mind.

This is one mistake that gets perfected with practice. They just keep hurting better. We just learn to crawl along with the frozen hands in time. Eventually it will thaw - but how long more?

When I said i liked u, i lied. When i said i didnt care, i lied. When i said i was mad, i lied. I lied becos i love u, and i don't wanna be with you.

You'll be happy. Someday we'll be happy. You'll make me smile again. And then we'll laugh, and talk about the silly things and the great things. And then i'll look at u and still love u like how i always have. I'll cheer u on wherever u are.

May love always be with u. Be good. Thank you.