They're supposed to be roses; it's supposed to be a heart.




        What kind of a week it was, what kind of a day it was.

        What kind of a life it is!

        #
        Fade out.
        
        The pale night hugged me with its cold wet arms.  
        A million arms.  One pedestrian.

        I tried to pronounce my sadness, but there wasn’t any.        
        It was a simple, silent night, in which walked a restless shape.

        They were all asleep.   I watched the last window turned dark and away.   But I wasn’t alone.  Shadows walked pass me once in awhile.
        They were lost in the conversation of night also, but they were determined, unlike me.

        I was a vagrant. Those who wanted to embrace me I had left; those I wanted to grasp I couldn’t find.
/鹿鳴會館


        #
        They're supposed to be roses; it's supposed to be a heart.

        Supposed to. What an excruciating and misleading concept.
        It’d kidnapped me, before I can even remember, and kept me hostage ever since.

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