<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>class - Archive - MayVaneDay Studios</title>
</head>
<body>
<p align=center>
<b>MayVaneDay Studios (Gopher Edition)</b>
</p>
<p><b>class</b></p>
<p><b>published: 3-17-2017</b></p>
<p> </p>
<p>My room has been darkening for some hours and I’ve only noticed it now. But nothing can quite capture the feeling of dying sunlight on somebody else’s windowsill, hitting the half-dead fish surrounded by waters just as murky as your own intentions. Not to mention those of the strangers around you- constantly fiddling with a small purse, trying to find the best place to safeguard it from pickpockets without disturbing the gracious hosts or yourself.</p>
<p>It had been eight months since I had last slept in that bed, unless my memory is playing tricks upon me again. And in that eight months, the obsessions had neither ceased nor waned- just changed their subjects, looking for another cheap thrill that would not have any result on the world.</p>
<p>But corrupted alphabets have to end somewhere, unfounded fears put to rest and resurrected anew in other languages- tongues doing double duty, triple, tea bubbles and hasty words dissolving, sometimes sweet and sometimes bitter. A hit or miss event; mostly miss, something always amiss.</p>
</body>
</html>