There is no demand, but open note, even from one to another.
In L shaped constructed things we call sofa, bench, or make believe one, we sit and spend some times. We checked the hours, to make us look busy. We curse the day, but we did anyway. The young everlasting romance. Busy to wait and we have that as our own common enemy.
None likes to wait. And yet, we are all waiting.
To wait could feels like higher entity which we can't fight off, but why can't we escape it? We are free being, we are free to do what we want to do and isn't it easy to do so? Or is it just an excuse?
Are we waiting for our time, to ends? Or are we waiting for our time to ends?
And have you decide whether it is a...