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We recognize or unfamiliar,
the coming of spring, as the whole world sunset dusk. Wandering in a strange
city, you inadvertently appeared behind me. Years like the wind?, Brought
forward when blowing your breath?, How many years back the curtain that year, I
learned that I was eighteen years. They said I was a nostalgic children, parajumpers
often see a photo
to listen to a song. Only I know, do not care about those things I said, what
led mood accompanied me how much, no one can understand my cry, and as
jin0813huan do not know my smile.
Has been the habit to do a quiet child,
a person smiling, crying, sleeping, loss, time is always a long, silent phase,
as those days, I used to make up for gaps of silence all that period of time.
However, one day, a place, suddenly heard a voice saying: Hitomi Hitomi, the
period from the death of your only day. I became terrified, flawless, standing
around a crowded street powerless instantly back seems to miss some things, such
as a person, a smiling face, always in a hurry to see the pace and blurred
backs.
Time is like an hourglass generally passes slowly from the
fingertips, those rotten breath glowing memories floating in the spring evening.
I try to forget, or have been in oblivion, the things that happened and did not
happen all the time in addition to formatting the memory. Youth, Sentimental
memories of love, affection and blurred that crippled friendship. I try to
collect those warm pictures with happy words go through eighteen seasons.
Everything seemed futile, those cold light shining screen, like cold chains,
wrapped around my entire youth dreams.