One should not be too straightforward. Go and see the forest.
The straight trees are cut down, the crooked ones are left standing.
Kuulilya, Indian philosopher third century BC

The music has stopped playing but the rhythm still echoes in my head. It saddens me to know our paths have to abruptly end this way. I guess fate was bound. Even before we started. The souls aligned but the bodies speak a different language. Thanks for the memories.

Ah, Love! Could Thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would we not shatter it to bits—and then
Re-mold it nearer to the Heart’s Desire!”
—The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

The rebels in me..
Why does the rebels have to dwell in me..
It's just so exhausting being a rebel sometimes, draining and energy burn..
Being alone among millions is tormenting sometimes..
Being broken over and over again is depressing sometimes.
Feeling deluded and abandoned is suicidal sometimes..
Not knowing your fate is mental torture all times..
Crying alone and in the dark is heart-rending..
Betrayals are worst sometimes..

What can a slave offer anyway...
That's the mind of the slave masters and the slaves... What an epical irony transmuted into the genes of the future.. so says, it goes The sins of the fathers...
The slave dealing of ancient times, the mill might have been removed but the wind still blows