The autumn sun has made the trees look old and sad. They seem to be good natured. The old trees are carefully watching me as I make my way between them, winding. I hear, every few seconds, the song of a bird that is lodging in the branches of the kindly and sad trees up above. I am not self centered.
Every sunday now this routine. No holidays or workdays, just a simple little sunday stroll with no one else. The main thing to do is to just have a lovely relax. Just let yourself sweetly relax and feel like a little piece of dew on a flower.
There is no trouble going on. There is no city and no people and nothing at all that I don't like. Quiet and alone and full of thoughts. There is no Gok Wan going mad around here. There are no phone in competitions. Is this a death? I think I can feel a hearbeat but it might not be mine.
I am going to carry on thinking about whether I might be dead.