i could not help thinking why i was not irritated by current situations to an extent that a wish to go back in time originates in my heart. why, in spite of all the fiascos of my present life, my proletarian lifestyle, my acceptance of the fact that i have been a failure, my valueless presence, my unrecognized honesty i never wished once to be young again, to be pure again, to start again, to live again! while strolling lazily down the street i looked at those young couples walking hand in hand, heart in heart, smiling and laughing with indifference. one part of me wanted to feel jealous but could not get enough life to bulldoze other parts, better parts with its hideousness. even my incessant resurrection of mysterious grievances buried far back in the confused sunless earth of time could not stop me from hoping for a revival.
may be it is because of my will to grow that i love whatever comes my way. may be i am very strong. or may be i am very wrong.