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Thirsty for music, gulping down avant garde and more post-rock, questioning the stars why instead of finding what as more leaves fell from my tree of life, time passing by with eyes closed, subconsciousness drowned with music, but for some reason thirsty for more. I am never contented.

Singing the heart out is not enough. Let me teach you the language of Mother Earth, and never forget the promise you made to me on that day.

woah~~ your a PH SONE???? coooooooooool~ you're a splendid writer! extraordinary I might add ^~^ you're fictions ARE the best

Hi. long time since we talked, just saying hi. oh and i really like that line you posted "Everything that came from the earth, would certainly go back to the earth. And as your rotten flesh embrace the soil, seeds would grow. You still live. Forever.

Find happiness, they said. It would be the end of sorrow, they said...

It was faint. Very faint. The voice of laugter from lips, silence in the middle of soundlessness. It was very faint, the happiness.

Emptiness.

Everything that came from the earth, would certainly go back to the earth. And as your rotten flesh embrace the soil, seeds would grow. You still live. Forever.

By flying into the sky, you touch the clouds. By jumping into the emptiness of the yawning earth, you touch the sky. You fly into the air.

i love your about me section. <3 Your amazing.

In the stillness of the day, you daydream. In the most chaotic moments of your life, you still daydream. You think of the stillness.

Thanks for reading my story. Man, that fiction has been hibernating for nearly a year now. And because you bumped it, advertised it like "awesomely", free of charge (lol), and other people has started reading it, you woke up the sleeping goodness in me, which is, like the story itself, has been shadowed by the past few months of nothing but work. Thank you so much. On behalf of myself, and the writer me, thank you for reading my story. Stay tuned for more. *winks*