I want to travel around, with some soft cotton dresses and a large camera,
seeking the ultimate freedom.
I want to hop on a train without knowing the destination,
to feel the sorrow of homelessness.
I want to wake up in the middle of nowhere,
to think about what loneliness is.
What is real leneliness?
Nobody listens when you want to talk,
or when people want to listen, you having nothing to say?
Sometimes I am touched by a single simple picture.
So simple that I can forget what it excactly looks like after awhile.
But the feeling still remains.
Maybe this is their charm.
Who said pale was powerless?
There is no earthly reason to always be hysteric.
And why does everything has to be colorful and gorgeous?
I stood opposite to you, listening to you play guitar.
That corner was your stage.
Even if the bright sunshine blurred your eyes,
and the sound of cars' horns covered your ears.
You still stayed in your own world and sang from your soul.
I was your audience, I stood opposite to you.
You described yourself not through a conversation, but in your quiet singing,
and I was touched by your little world.