Past is that annoying good friend whom you can strangulate, bury under ground and stand on its grave looking up at your future but you cannot kill it. When you try to walk away, it’ll stick its stiff hands out to grab your feet, anchoring you into a fall.
Sounds of The Birds
Those small colorful birds singing their songs, smarting the stillness out of dawn, turning smog and loneliness brought to world by the passing night into colorful, joyish hour.
