So, on the ocean of life, we pass and speak one another
Only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.
Henri LONGFELLOW
Tales of a Wayside Inn
jeudi 8 octobre 2009
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Every means of communication what is call languages are mysteries
I am a foreigner in an insulated capsule
I taste. I explore. I take samples to try and break loneliness
I'm learning. Maybe, one day, I will be truely able to write and talk.
I am a foreigner in an insulated capsule
I taste. I explore. I take samples to try and break loneliness
I'm learning. Maybe, one day, I will be truely able to write and talk.
