November 28th, 2:01am

I glanced over at the wet footprint made on carpet. I notice I can't tell if it's too big or too small a footprint, but what do we compare to anyways? Why is normal the average of things?
Is it because we can only survive in the middle of things? Not hot or cold. Not acid or basic.
Not the past or future.

I remember the sour-sweet incident. You opened up to me and revealed a manifesting side that seeks for craftsmanship, but never satisfaction. I was astonished that something as a beautiful dream in the desert could carry tsunamis. But then again, how could I be so surprised when I, myself, keep scars so hidden.
I gave a metaphor. The dark side of us seeks the same the good side of us does. Both a fulfillment. In the end, both are to make your wishes come true. It's like Batman and the Joker, I had said. They both want justice in Gotham, but each try to achieve the dream in a different way. And thoughts are like that.
If one day you are to accept that your good and bad thoughts are equal, that day, Batman and the Joker will finally shake hands.