Dear Diary, //Let us be credulous that, one day, such joy will meet our way. // I’ve found a memory covered and hidden beneath the forgotten dust of time — and a past moment had unravel before my eyes as it was this very present moment, as it was my true essence.
Dusk it was, a particular moment of the day where this world and the other meet and become one. Where everything converge, twist and take a shape. Where everything around us is compelling and enticing, where our soul it isn’t a prisoner, isn’t contained, but instead disperse and free, connected with that invisible world, where, at once, is moon, light, sun, fortune, glory and hope. Dear Diary, I long for these kindred days.