Everybody wants to hop in the same train. I can't think when i want to.

What in this word, is truly real?
Will we achieve the success by doing all this?
While the clocks eliminates time, while we work to get somewhere; will all this be worth it? What can we do if everything feels strange? If everything seems misplaced?

What makes you happy? What can we achieve to be happy, to conquer the happiness? Once we've conquered it, will it stay within us forever, or we will get sad again? Everywhere i go, i can see black spots, and those black spots, are me. They are fallen pieces that I've left behind in places I've gone, and they are wandering around there, meeting me in any place, at any time, anywhere, doing anything. Those are my rotten shards of memories.