It doit y avoir absolument éternité en musique: 我作曲故我在 – I compose; therefore I am.

“Moja bieda”

Quoted from F. Chopin’s writing on an envolope which collected all Maria’s letter inside. Except for this, I find no words can be more suitable for me to convey such feeling. My mortal heart was frozen on the tundra, with my step going along the glacier. There is nothing other than ocean in both my eyes and dreams, where I can never see any twilight even if the dawn is coming.

Can never cease the pain until the death.
Can never stop seeking for an unexisited answer.
Can never forget if we have been in the same world.
Can never remember how to escape from the ambivalence in inner mind.
Can never confess that I can hardly breathe under such pressure.

I wonder if I can entirely have liberty when I’m no more here, but I know that I will do it.

Just like what is written in Yang, Mu’s prose, “To leave one place is true, but to seek for something is false.” that I can say “To go unrestrainedly is true, but to ignore everything is false”. I think I’m merely going somewhere without any memory for avoidance of the agony.

There’s no more sounds but silence in my ears.
There’s also no more music on my harp without your singing.
Let it be.

Echoes are ringing in my heart

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