The glimmer called hope is always there even when you’ve resigned yourself to expecting less. It may be smothered under all those layers of denial, but is still present nonetheless; smoldering. And when reality hits, and all those layers are peeled away, you wonder at its very presence. It has been well established over the ages- the existence of this stubborn little ember refusing to die out, more often known as ‘hoping against hope’ or ‘wishful thinking’.

Time to sleep.

Wanted to feed the pigeons with leftover rice since before exams but they are nowhere to be seen. I miss the fat pigeons.