I'll leave footprints in the sand when no one's there to dig them for me - my grave. Maybe one day, I'll find somebody to play in the sand with me as the tides rises, but maybe that person will leave this world before me. That's why I alone will leave the footprints that will always fade away one day, and my entire existence will be washed away like the waves- yet... perhaps the fact that I've existed and smiled my way through will be remembered by the hearts of someone, not the history. Maybe I'll be missed, or maybe not. I don't know how to live a life with no sorrow, I can only walk a journey that knows only the art of pain, the thorn of the beautiful red roses prick me so, and life is like a thorny rose- it's beautiful yet painful on the way of plucking them one by one, scattering them. They shatter like glass and one day they will disappear.


If I were to drop down a cliff, I wonder how many hands will be offered to me. I wonder how many faces will be filled to the brim with panic and worry. I wonder how many will just sit and stare, not caring. But... I wonder who will be the one to jump down, whispering: "if this cliff has no ending, then I'll spend the eternity jumping off this cliff with you".


One day, if I were to fall down, I wonder how many will offer their hands. I can bet with you: none. Because they're just using me.