Ease.

I solely know how time made me less cruel.

When was born my solitude, I saw.

Myself

Monday, I’m looking to the square in front of my home. I’m looking everywhere through my sunglasses, sunny day. I’m looking to my reminiscense, I’m trying to remember. My remembering had gone, nonetheless the phantoms of my past are blowing up. I do not even know where myself is wandering. But, I’m sure he is breaking away from those phantoms: why we desire scape from those/us/me crazily? Maybe, he had figured out the sense of my life. Darkness?