every day, what I hear is heart broken..
you are the wind i borrow from the sky..
you are the plant i grow with tear..
i am the piano who down into the sea..
i am a sleeping candle in a surrealistic room..
there is no one who should be dead with
her cigaratte and roses..
2005 diary..
take the train back to the memory..
keep your secret in the tree hole..
you can see a marvelous city full
of light of hope..

2005-2-24