There was a time when the sun and the moon fell less splendid, nor even did the starry sky behave so attrac-tive. The wild faded while the plants turned to ash. This ever-bright pair of eye has been contaminated by dust.
Having on a mask of false laughter, shutting down my heart and soul and sticking to my dark side, I app-reciated everything the Outbound Autism had brought me. I was per-haps drowning in no greater sorrow than ever before.
Gently does the gust of wind flows.
Life never goes on without mis-fortunes, and this is perhaps my first gap so deep to cross.
The Fates bid it everytime he granted us a wonderful experience. Just as the fact that the better the wine you have tastes, the worse your food is after that. Yet delicacy like wine, however sweet, can ensure no survival. And such is the request of life, that we have to acknowledge, though bitterly, the reality and lead a lifestyle with great consciousness. It is not that there is short of touching love affairs, but that it is of even higher value to be painful.
Salvation after being down, and st last I gain something like maturity, which appears only out of situations without being sighted, like tears disappear down your cheek without trace.
Gently does the gust of wind flows.
I'm fond of stories. And I read stories of bitterness to strenghten my own heart while stories of tenderness to keep my heart from being so numb. There is so many stories ,as they are, taking place all around the world, and even my own one, I suppose, would serve as a release to someone else.
But,
We're always matching towards the future while stories are seriously restricted to the past. Life never allows us extra time, regardless even of many nice stories given.
There begins a new era where I will have got to learn to lead my life personally. I have abandoned almost everyone of my favorites as a finale to my former life. I shall do sports to keep in good health, read to stay keen, make friends socially to enrich my experiences,and travel to deepen my heart and soul.
Some day in the future, I suppose, I will handle everything with ease, and will be aware of the meaning of my life.
All Stories on the Soil Will Follow That Gust of Wind.
