| “At sunset on top of a mountain, a magic rose blossomed every night that made whoever plucked it immortal. But no one dared go near it because its thorns were full of poison. Men talked amongst themselves about their fear of death and pain, but never about the promise of eternal life. Everyday the rose wilted, unable to bequeath its gift to anyone… Forgotten and lost until the end of time.”
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| I'll pretend I am kissing
The lips I am missing
And hope that my dreams will come true
And then while I'm away
I'll write home every day
And I'll send all my loving to you
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| Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimensions of space. 
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| It's been a while, longer than i thought. 
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