but alive. Alive in the sense that as I listen to Mr. Glass' Trilogy Sonata for piano, watching the night embrace the sky, embrace the streets, people, and cars I belong. I belong in this strange world where the days creep in and out. I am the sequel to the trilogy of life. The prequel is too soon, the ending is too final. The sequel leaves room for a past and a conclusion. However, without dwelling in either two. I like conversations with the Sky.
I wonder what brought me to that.
The song just ended and so will I.
(:
goodnight.
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