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  • In my five minutes break to shorten my life span - if you know what I mean - I took a walk across the room and sat myself next to the window. The view was how it has always been but the wide gloomy sky. A twelve lanes city street, several distant skyscrapers, cars passes by like colorful army of ants, yet the vault of heaven was refracting light without spectral color separation. I always cherish how bright sky warms me up, but today it was achromatic and honestly I don’t really resent it.

    Through the years of my spiritual changeling (yes, I consider myself spiritually challenged), I am reduced to an infidel. I, with all my un-believing exposition of reasons, would never apprehend an idea so supreme as heaven. Perhaps I am dull-witted. Perhaps I am too much romanticized by my walks on earth. Perhaps I composed too many beautiful phrases to the Fates in the sleepless hours of the night; not to solicit alms, but to recollect my love for life.

    In a quite simple desperate human way, it has all gone: the looking forward to an eternal place of great happiness and peace. I believe someday people will be sensible of this little gap of the idea, whereas with me it is quite blunt: I'd miss the earthly balance of smiles and tears, of contentment and burdens. One day, more of us would see how the sky clothe in an idea so exquisite that it would lose a little of its reality that some days it is spectral and some days it is gray. And I don’t really resent it.
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