It is this feeling, I know this feeling that I could not give up. In fact, let a person heart is a very easy thing. Maybe I have never had this kind of pain, and I have never had this kind of memory. So I kept it secretly, let it become a book. With the wind speed and intensity non-stop roll on this section of memory. I can't this section of memory, because it really is like a dream only seems to exist, no temperature, no time mark, without touching the strange.The reason I say it like a dream and not because it is so beautiful, just because it into the memories is a very quick thing, know that breathing? Just like I exhaled gas to launch into water vapor will again be re breathing, is such ordinary disappear, but this disappeared so I never knew it existed. Transparent, fuzzy side white.I sit at my window, the table plate sun red edge. In my memory, I do not know the wind can make the memory back to where, I waited, like a captured soldier, can only listen, watch...... The heart of the struggle like a raging fire self incineration.I'm afraid of betrayal is not afraid of losing. Because I don't know what I really have, but I lost it, I realized I had. I made a mistake, I think he | she had made such a mistake. Our memory is constantly being refreshed, we can re establishment of brain cells to create new memory, occupied but is our memory, and what is the relationship of our own? So we always unconscious and throngs of people hug, leave, get along with. While the delete key I was so clumsy, I constantly shuttling back and forth in the memory and reality. If the reality betrays me, I will shrink up losing cyclotron until in the memory, in the cyclotron...... In short, in the back of the story I lost now, only those old not old memories.I do you dream of mediation in a small city in their own. This is me, is not the same as the color of fireworks.