
A game, isn’t that what life is – results, isn’t that what everything must come to. Letting the days pass by, I’ve stopped talking. I listen to myself, my thoughts, dwell inside my own self. Doesn’t hurt, does no harm, loneliness comes from bitterness – can’t touch my smile. I smile because of nothing, maybe I smile because of everything. I have so much in the palm of hand, weightless feathers that will fly as soon as I set them free.

