Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy.
The Dream, Lord Byron (1816)
Sunday, April 08, 2007
-_- It's no wonder why fairytales stick with us. Fantasies; make us hope for an it's-all-good life. OR maybe it's just Singapore. Driving everyone mad stressed.
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