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On a very sunny day, like today, we incline to see brightness though with partial billows up in the blue sky. Life is not perfect, like no one could ever have. Akin to a tainted sky, everything is flawed and faulty, if not filthy. Summer is heading into its last weekend, and yet we still trying to pretend that it won’t come to an end..

Time is something you can’t bring to a halt; it’s ever changing and moving like a seashore wind or of a teenage girl’s mind, never passes your way again and fossilizes your memory behind. Moments itself is temporary treasure, reminiscence are eternal not unless you have an incurable Alzheimer’s disease.

But it’s too early to recollect precious stuffs you’ve been into this summer, sixty summer days is yet undone. Enough isn’t enough. Sleeping all day is not a recommended picking. Settle more than chatbox and Xbox’s glee, I believe the aforementioned hobbies could swell more ass’ flea.

The past few days that you’ve been flying kites, sharing coco juice under the coco shade with loco associates, fishing sessions with your dad or friends, overnight cocktail ravings with someone you or you don’t know, talking to kind strangers on board of plane or bus or barge, the beach assembly, the hiking spree in the wilderness, the shopping sensation, pet dog cuddles, hours spent at night by the window looking for falling stars, playing guitar, slices of pizza with your friend, the music that completes you, diary updates, tree planting activities, cooking lessons, movie marathon, cup of coffee over news daily, and jogging alone in the dark dawn. All of which were real experiences and beyond price.

Alright now, stop the drama. Summer is infinite and that is definite.