life and what’s left of it

two nights ago i dreamt of someone i have only heard stories about; stories that have to do with resilience, selflessness and sometimes even anecdotes of how she had a strict side as well.

i wish i could remember every moment vividly but all i can remember is the softness of her hands and kindness in her eyes. i remember him asking if we had a conversation but we didn’t. mostly i remember how i felt about the bittersweet scenario; meeting someone i wish i could have met in person only briefly in dreams and not even having a proper conversation.

and now i think of how bizarre this might sound: being even remotely upset about a dream when it is, just a dream after all. then i allow myself to wonder about life, where does life’s force go after life ends and basically the whole beauty of living and having lived.


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