"So everything that makes me whole, I'll leave it all with you."
- My Dearest, Supercell
Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter.
Season by season, time goes by.
Measuring time, something that doesn't really exist.
Psychological phenomen, worldly objects from other worlds.
Things that do not exist within words, within possibility.
Yet, pieces that make up things that define our current existence.
Depending on others, relying on others.
What an incredibly uncertain foundation.
Secluded we are weak, but united we are strong.
If one cannot do anything, what do we hope for as individuals?
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