because it doesnt feel like mine anymore. ):
time is like the sand in your hand. it is rough on the surface, but gentle on your skin. it gives you a warm and cosy feeling when it slips through the gaps between your fingers and descends like a waterfall to bury your toes. summer breeze, colorful umbrellas, and seashells dotting the beach.
then you try to pick the sand up - the exact grains, but you know that it is impossible now.
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