I think most of us are haunted deep within by a sense of lost perfection, by the nagging feeling not just that things could be better but that they once were better. That we can actually, in our hearts, recall a feeling of joy that we cannot reproduce, and that is our ultimate agony. It’s not just that we can imagine utter happiness, it’s that we have tasted it, and having tasted it, nothing else tastes the same, which is why so much of life is so bitterly sweet. I don’t think we ever stop trying to find it again, that sense of infinite well being and security.

Deep in our hearts we all long for a sort of restoration. That’s what love offers, our only chance back to an ethereal communion we once enjoyed, and maybe that’s why love even at first sight feels so much like a reunion. =)

It is fall. The melancholy that Keane feels matched the sadness of the environment. He walked slowly at the bed of dead leaves and branches with things going around his head. Very troubled, he was. The crackles of the dead leaves and twigs, the wind, the soft unknown music that plays in his head were the symphony Keane was uncontrollably hearing. His hair was blocking his view, and from time to time, you can see those gloomy eyes. How sad those eyes were, looking through it you can see his crying soul, yet you can see no tears.

Another twig cracked, and then suddenly, time stopped. He can no longer hear the sound of dead leaves, or the twigs, or the cool breeze that touches his face, so softly. And there, Carla was, long hair covering her face. She stood there waiting, with her equally sad eyes with a certain look of mourning.

Keane got nearer, and in his mind, that sad, sad music played.

Their eyes met. Keane saw a little leaf that landed itself on Carla’s soft lips. Gently, he wiped it with his thumb, with other fingers gently resting on her chin. Carla closed her eyes. Keane saw this, and slowly he leaned forward, his lip a quarter of an inch away from hers. Keane came into his senses. He pulled back, leaving Carla stunned and clueless. Keane turned his back from Carla. He heard Carla’s silent sobs, but he walked on. He started walking again. The sound of Carla’s cries grew larger, and he knew she was already seated at the bed of browning leaves. Keane, with his sad eyes, never looked back. He just continued walking and walking in the middle of nowhere.

If I live in Australia, I’ll make Kangaroos the local transportation.
If I live in Great Britain, I’ll talk british and brush horses.
If I live in Spain, my name would be Juanito es muy bonito.
If I live in Ecuador, I’ll bring oil and cook bacon on my stomach.
If I live in Canada, I’d be drunk.
If I live in Amsterdam, I’ll treat it like a paid vacation.
If I live in Iraq, I won’t take showers.
If I’m the King of England, I’ll make you my bitch.
If I live in Africa, I’ll build a tree house.
If I live in China, I’ll shave my head.
If I live in Germany, I’ll make Hitler look like an angel.
If I live in Italy, I’ll draw outside the streets.
If I live in Egypt, I’d live in a pyramid of chocolate.
If I live in Israel, I’ll have the most sin.
If I live in Hawaii, I’ll get a tattoo on my face that says balls.
If I live in Indonesia, I’ll take a dump on the volcano.
If I live in Malaysia, I’ll drive a tricycle.
If I live in India, I won’t wear deodorant.
If I live in Antartica, I’ll give every Penguins eskimo kisses.
If I live in UAE, I’ll search for Lovely and ask her for an apple.
If I live in France, I won’t shave.
If I live in Japan, I’ll search for Hontiro Hanzo.
If I live in Guam, I’ll walk in circles.
If I live in Bangladesh, I’d be a Muslim.
If I live in Greenland, I’ll make it brown.
If I live in Saudi Arabia, I’ll grow a mustache till it cover my upper lip.
If I live in Ireland, I’ll be a sourpuss.
If I live in United States, I’ll make Obama the president.
If I live in Philippines, it’ll feel like home.

Many things go on Nathan’s mind.
And please don’t take offense on the countries.
I’m just being sarcastic. ^_^

You were a hurting heart. The forces had brought me to a long road, and I faced each challenges. Each and every one of them. There have been defeats, but I have learned to pick myself up, get my sword and continue battling with the wars I have started. I have lived the dark ages of my life to the fullest. There, you can see a strong man laden with guilt, but still keeps a stern face. I am the winner.

No, I held my tears back, for this is not the time to cry. This is the time to celebrate. But the cruel thing is, I don’t have anyone to celebrate it with. I am the one man army. I am the strong and brave man that had fought all my battles alone. I am the one who’s victorious. But I have no one.

You were a hurting heart, so was I.

I found you, and you found me, in the road of never ending sorrow. You found me indifferent to the feeling. Tougher than anyone you have ever seen. I greeted you with a smile, and embraced you with so much longing… someone at last. You have a past and I never wanted you to look back, so I just embraced you and gave you the love I never gave to them. And in our sweet embrace I cried everything away. My God had given me another chance. You made me love Him more.

When I found you all I wanted was to cure your grief. You ended up curing mine.