22 years to this day since 1998~ I lived. Walked parallel to time, saw peoples with similar cells and varying genes circumventing their paths to answer their destine. I stopped by avenues sometimes to meet thirst and other times to feed a considerable soul some knowledge. Bewildered. But there has always been some growth if I ignore the range. And now at this point of time abstractness seems a bit tired to arbitrate my routes, this took a real long time. That old skin is now gone with its essence. I won't approach a newer self. Feels right this way. I imagine myself, maybe someday when I shall be breathing near some hills and clouds with ink and my grandfather's diary, right there will meet a stranger asking for my identity and to which I shall be answering with a smile.