What a sight to behold in this hectic life of scrolling mile after mile! I walk on the fingers of my hand, following the path of people's memories and words; I don't understand how much attention he gets on the way he walks! As if walking is walking; There is nothing special to do, so walk; I don't feel like doing any of the work that I have to do, so I walk.
On a conceptual afternoon of wandering like this, I received a letter from a stranger. Who wrote a letter to him in the old typewriter font - who is to say why, someone will be close! Understand writing a letter without someone close? What a pleasure he had with that letter! I could see the smile of that stranger in front of my eyes.
Seeing the smile, it seemed like something that I was not familiar with. It's been a long time since I wrote you the last letter. Seeing your reluctance to write a return letter, I even stopped walking around your veranda! Repeatedly saying or lying seems very true. I tell myself over and over again, I don't have time to write you!
Still, I felt a feeling when I saw the letter from that stranger today. Not jealousy, not just being happy to see the happiness of others, something in between. Intermediate emptiness. You have, no harm. But, let it be mine too. Anyway, what's the harm?
What exactly is the damage, I know the ashes, tell me? You know The wind comes so fast from the pub! I feel the water level of the river will rise tonight too ... Does the grief of the flood cut into the mud, Amitabh? I walk on the fingers of my hand, following the path of people's memories and words; I don't understand how much attention he gets on the way he walks! As if walking is walking; There is nothing special to do, so walk; I don't feel like doing any of the work that I have to do, so I walk.
On a conceptual afternoon of wandering like this, I received a letter from a stranger. Who wrote a letter to him in the old typewriter font - who is to say why, someone will be close! Understand writing a letter without someone close? What a pleasure he had with that letter! I could see the smile of that stranger in front of my eyes.
Seeing the smile, it seemed like something that I was not familiar with. It's been a long time since I wrote you the last letter. Seeing your reluctance to write a return letter, I even stopped walking around your veranda! Repeatedly saying or lying seems very true. I tell myself over and over again, I don't have time to write you!
Still, I felt a feeling when I saw the letter from that stranger today. Not jealousy, not just being happy to see the happiness of others, something in between. Intermediate emptiness. You have, no harm. But, let it be mine too. Anyway, what's the harm?
What exactly is the damage, I know the ashes, tell me? You know The wind comes so fast from the pub! I feel the water level of the river will rise tonight too ... Does the grief of the flood cut into the mud, Amitabh? I walk on the fingers of my hand, following the path of people's memories and words; I don't understand how much attention he gets on the way he walks! As if walking is walking; There is nothing special to do, so walk; I don't feel like doing any of the work that I have to do, so I walk.
On a conceptual afternoon of wandering like this, I received a letter from a stranger. Who wrote a letter to him in the old typewriter font - who is to say why, someone will be close! Understand writing a letter without someone close? What a pleasure he had with that letter! I could see the smile of that stranger in front of my eyes.
Seeing the smile, it seemed like something that I was not familiar with. It's been a long time since I wrote you the last letter. Seeing your reluctance to write a return letter, I even stopped walking around your veranda! Repeatedly saying or lying seems very true. I tell myself over and over again, I don't have time to write you!
Still, I felt a feeling when I saw the letter from that stranger today. Not jealousy, not just being happy to see the happiness of others, something in between. Intermediate emptiness. You have, no harm. But, let it be mine too. Anyway, what's the harm?
What exactly is the damage, I know the ashes, tell me? You know The wind comes so fast from the pub! I feel the river will rise tonight too ... Does the grief of the flood cut into the mud, Amitabh?
Thanks.
