In times, I'd say my art was everything I had left of me. Nowadays, there isn't a single thing I can look at and recall as of my own.
The game has gone back to the beginning. The challeng has just re-started. I thought I was saving her some new effort and he we are, back to the beginning. She'll feel sad. I'll feel sad to see her disapointed face. I love you. Forgive me.
The sun shines in the cold streets of the city. Later on, when I decide to walk back home, I will look around and will imagine extraordinary thng to write about. It's worthless - as soon as I arrive home, everything had just vanishe from my mind and my imagination has just gone blank. What can I do?
I dream and I fantasize about too many things. But dreams and fantasies aren't enough without a little bit of effort. Where will it take me?!