I am just a sad rock on the road, but when I remember your voice, I
feel the strange green and dewy touch of my skin, so I smile. I am alone, like
this bitter time, and I am only good at sadness. I write to you with sadness
because I am from the sad land. The roads here are sad, the stories are sad,
the hearts are sad, even the smiles are sad. We are here when we write, we
write with sadness, when we read, we read with sadness, when we love we love
with sadness, and when we laugh, we laugh with sadness. They stole our door and
stole our windows, so the sadness entered our homes with air. We have become
fish that breathe sadness, and when we are born, we are born with sadness
because we know that behind our stolen doors and behind our stolen windows,
nothing awaits us but sadness.
