alone in my room, thinking of things that pass around me, I know myself, know morethan anyone else in this life time, there are times that i feel guilty of this which i know to myself that i have nothing to do with it, i don't know, it is me, just me, no one else, but me, seeking for help, but no one answers, I'm in this pilgrimage of sorrow, i watch time pass me by, it is so fast, so slow, unpredictable weathers, and events, questions pop-up, what is my purpose? why me? is this reality? when will I die? I what it! yes..