And if you might listen carefully to their mumbling mouth, conversed in a dimly soft manner, you would notice that; in the end, life is a collection of tragedies, and what is the beauty of it? Life itself is a hoax, a dreamy dream in a sleepless night. The kind of dream that you desperately create in order to ease you to sleeping, and yet, it will only drags you, keeping you awake, sometimes for an hour or two, sometimes all night, and sometimes for eternity. You would be gasping for air, kicking ferociously in the depth of thoughts, trying to release yourself from it. Disdained, you wait for life to let you take a break, and it's a terrifying thing; for you do not know whether the break would be momentarily or eternal. And yet you still go to sleep, because you need it, and for the most part, because you had always believed that death would never betray you as life does during the day.
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