A terse conversation lasting only thirty seconds, bringing down so much potential. So much that was right...

A single X scrawled by so many, bringing down so much potential. So many tired dreams...


Is that what we are now? Are we they that toss toys aside like ideals?

*Intermission*

The Marriage of Figaro beckons, a lighthouse luring we moths to the rocks. And up ahead, those sails, setting forward of mine.