Fog is not something that people from the cities get to experience. Perhaps the reason why it charms them a lot. The mood, the disposition, the atmosphere, it has the power to change all. I have been fond of the fog. I associate it with nostalgia, or melancholy, perhaps. I feel of the slow and slothful afternoons where it activates inactivity. Influenced by euphony of the violin and the piano, I begin to wander into the overcast phases of my life.

Be it people or words, they are both like the fog. We have to go through them, to find the truth they leave behind. Something mystifying about the fog. It’s beautiful yet obscure. It’s existence is inconspicuous. It keeps the truth behind it. 

If you have less than five minutes, here’s Into The Fog.


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