Laying on the lake bank, I saw the sky after long time. It did not look familiar to me, though we had been so close. Distinctly characterised by the bubbling clouds probably streamed from the rippling movement of the lake, I slowed down my heart to try catching a moment of resonance with the strange world. I have been more like accompanying the flow of the world than walking on my way to try construct my perceived world. This was a strange feeling from all senses but the consciousness appeared to be an innocent victim in this gradual transformation of age. The recognition of life became a stopping-watch-like feature eroding in the silence of state. Every moment was supposed to be memorable, but the luxurious treasure rapidly synthesised with the other uncounted possibilities. The date was no longer too significant in the calendar, and the courageous step came after every other motion of the world. I guess the best way to benchmark a reference point of existence is a navigational stare to the unfamiliar sky (again), as this proves right now at least to be an insulating action for the next-to-be.
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