Gale.

⠀ Blurry scenes appear as eyes blink in the rhythm of a memoir the heart could never describe. The pulse of what lies concealed resounds like echoes the mind is eternally bound to keep. ❛ 𝑇𝘩𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘, 𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑛 𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑦, 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘, 𝑡𝘩𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔𝘩 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒, 𝑦𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑚𝑒́𝑚𝑜𝑖𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑐𝘩 𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑒. ❜ Time is a fleeting adagio, shaping every chamber of the core memories we cannot recall but only feel profoundly. Love is etched alongside pages written with warmth and endless adoration. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝑜𝑑𝑦𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑦, 𝑡𝑜 𝖦𝗋𝗂𝗆𝗌𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗇, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝑜𝑓 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖳𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗇𝖾. s.id/throbs-ticks ⠀