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Dear Twin !

I'm at a point crying my lungs out for being the helpless Nell to a worn-out Luke, yet beautifully bonded for eternity.

If my subconscious mind ever tried to rid me of my emotional vomit, maybe, it should also consider working on turning my unmatched fantasies to stark reality as a surprise gift. If say, my efforts to regurgitate should do the convincing part pretty well, provided my brush with bitter reality is painting only transparent colors.

Thanks to the one that's flying charter with me on this dysfunctional jet.

@B : Feeding our minds with baseless theories and furthering this insanity should probably be the Crux of the rest of our lives.

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