The very dreadful I myself don't know I want.
All my life is a kind of bad cinema fraud.
The sad intrigues, the funny love and so forth.
How did I dwindle into nothing? I'm at a loss.
I'm late to live and to love. I'm late!
I wonder what such waits me ahead.
You aroused me and I'm at one's wit's end.
It's emptiness around. On the other hand
I myself tried to creat the vacuum around.
I had a guard. I stayed safe and sound.
I lived inside my own universe day after day.
I tried to keep the status of quiet amain.
The sudden rousing cought me unawares.
I have neither wish nor readiness for affairs.
I don't want return in real life.
I'm out of breath. I'm not alive.
I'm sick of to be at stake caprice of fate.
I'm late to live and to love. I'm late!
I'm not aware other life. I'm all alone.
Ever since I'm used to swimming with flow
I draw to a close and I've a fit of the blues.
Give me a little time and I'm able break loose.
You will know about my existence never.
All is useless. I shan't even to endeavour.