An endless knitting, such as the little old dark childhood. Eternal silence at the door of his room by a low. The association would appear that the poor live to suffer. Of these, whose name sounds dreadfully in the ears of the living, neurotic tangle is made of the human mind. But racing at breakneck speed and continuous attempts to reach the farthest, to hide at the sight of awareness. Certainly know and perhaps do not know, a lot of people that there has never told of his past life. Among those who attended, trust me, there is more foreign people than it can imagine. Foreign to itself, of course. Stateless persons of conscience. They are for the most part to those whose eyes know sometimes be without substance. Those who look carefully, you really do not seem to know what lies beyond the tip of their nose. People foolishly happy in fact. Long-time fugitive, whose researches have ended long ago. While these little stupid things to smile, Just try asking around if anyone really remembers you and your childhood. Smile even when no one will answer. Smile and be happy.
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