নভেম্বর 10, 2026

You were conspicuous, and I was austere. I thought we both were congenial—who would have known this was a belie?

I had this abundant proclivity for you. I have never been cursory, but you, being capricious, made me humdrum.

How did the loquacious guy turn taciturn? How did that puerile soul become misanthropic?

Well, he deified you; he thought you were cerebral, not obsequious at all.

The way you were disseminating that homogeneous affection didn’t feel insipid at all.

His life was amorphous, and you placated him really well.

He was ready to flout everything and had become a spendthrift.

But in the end, it was not feasible—only quixotic.

And that mistaken thing turned out to be didactic for his expectations.

Thus, he became wary.

And it was “Happiness.”

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