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Today, I came here once again and sat alone, quietly, in a room both familiar and strange. Memories flooded my mind like the tide. I could not stop yearning for the past, and I was even less willing to forget the hope and solace buried deep in my soul. Snow-white walls, gleaming photographs-every corner of this world brimmed with happiness and sweetness...
I did not have the courage to speak of my reluctance to let go of the past, nor did I want to spoil the beginning of this new life, simply because I understood that everyone was struggling to get by. I picked up my pen, but the words escaped me. In the end, all that remained on the blank paper were two trails of tears. Memories that came without reason always wavered on the boundary between reality and dreams...
I tried to recall the past slowly. I tried to look forward to the future in secret, but... time had slowly slipped away, after all, turning to ashes in a moment of happiness, leaving behind not even a skeleton. I really liked that saying: please don't call me a hopeless wreck who won't pull himself together. If you were me, perhaps you wouldn't even be alive right now... Truly, it was absolutely right. Don't call me a wreck; I had a life of my own, too. Perhaps all children born in the nineties were like this, unable to understand themselves and even less willing to let others understand too much about them... Heh, there was so much to adjust to, and far more unexpected stories than I had imagined.
Like a clean sheet of white paper, though nothing had been left on it, everyone would reveal different colors, different legends, when they reached the end of their life...