The pitch-black night blankets me over the cold. Sleeping safe and sound, without knowing what is to come. I’m going to you with no warning — or am I?
Come to think of it, isn’t it you who has welcomed me with so much grace, hugs, and warmth that makes me wanna come?
Tracing the past about stories that you never thought would be possible in these earthly materials we live. But do you really know for sure where you came from? Coming to the conclusion that you made yourself. Try to close your eyes, shut your ears, and just screams whatever you thought was right.
But finally, you’re here...
In the pitch of black night, at the place where you can see grande arts above your head, souls besides your one, and humanness inside yourself. You now realize that you’re not an alien or an outsider. We’re the same and not apart. We shared the same rage, dreams, and fears even when I met you for the very first time. We crave the same thing and we long for the same winds.
