Again I feel bored.Heavens how can one be such changeable?Again I feel nothing.It seems that all the feelings in me is sucked out.What is the use of writing such stuff or passing this endless days?
Summer has come with spring.The hot is burning everyone out doors,and indoors there is nothing.The breeze enters softly through open window,and night is singing silently every where.The silence,and sleeping sense of this midnight is some how very sad.It seems as if the night is whispering another boring useless tomorrow.Nothing is here to fight for,nothing.
Am I despaired again?How long shall I still coninue such long way?
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