I am, on a stone..
There is a stone we have been talking long ago, and there we are, delayed in fellow race, and glad we have still made here, and somebodies drown, maybe just for now, before dead..
Man made by his novel, and my novel shall upstream from here, with abit vision, with abit caring, with abit considering, or, shall with nothing.. whatever fancy or evil, it should be another chapter of the novel, and at least it shall be a fabulous one, out of previous and consolidate the later..
Earth is still spinning, and everything shall move on, old but gold is crowding, youth is impulsive in all round, and that’s merely naive (yet treasurable).. And what if there is something else?
Something at least i could move forward to..