There is a bug which is residing inside of me. Immortal and fatal. This malignant bug triggers revulsions which ultimately walk with reality. It acts as a barricade between me and my goal, makes us miles away from each other. The bug becomes a potential threat to me when it gets equipped with the ‘love’ grenade and then, its callousness is beyond any explanation. The aftermath forces me to submerge in the sea of dreams that I usually swim. All my dreams and aspirations, likings and anticipations die with my dying breathe. In my afterlife, I start from the starting line with an instinct to vanquish the cause of my own doom. The cycle repeats and is repeating but with some alterations in its each version. The alterations of alterations by some divine creature is my only hope now otherwise , just like others, I will die and then start to breathe again.