“How many times do I have to tell you that we could’ve been happy the way we were? How many times do I have to remind you all the things you did to look better before others were the unnecessary stress that bought us precious time in our lives that could’ve been spent on happiness? And are you, happy with yourself? Are you pleased that all the hard work and your deeds are missed by the greater audience? I cannot comprehend why you still believe that you should estimate yourself on the values that society established? The morals you brought from countries blended with your own Western living and left you indecisive. It is a sad cycle to see the backward continue going backward, because, you are aware of your own actions. And though you could fix them, your mind has always bended towards the path of destruction, a path where nothing is gained but lost in a black mass and never regained. Your hard work and your efforts were better spent elsewhere. We could’ve been great. We could’ve been happy. That word, happy, we never hear it anymore. Pessimism and correction are words floating around the house for joy and acceptance have been expelled from the walls of this ruthless establishment. But the war inside of us rages like a storm and if it could be conjured up by some supernatural performance, we would watch as a hurricane savagely tore down the broken memories that lived so long in this place. Yet, to the world, we can hide the pain and the sorrow. Strangers will easily believe that our hearts are content, filled to the very brim with joy but even if they were smart enough to know we weren’t the happy number of individuals, they wouldn’t care. The neighbourhood closes their doors to the problems of the world and yet though I have lived so long here, I feel like each and every conflict is calling out to me.”