It's nice to look at you at far distance,
though you might not notice.
It's nice to speak with you,
though sometimes mostly we speak of work rather than personal things.
It's nice I'm watching you change in this period of time,
though I'm not involved in it.
I know you are the best and I just can't compare you to me,
I didn't dare to look at you, when you're watching me,
I'm afraid to speak to you, and my heart is beating fast when I did that,
I was scared, you'll be lost in my sight, having me alone in this darkness,
And I'm alone again, though I seemed to be always alone in this darkness.
You know, 1 is the loneliest number, yet it's full with passion.
The passion guide him forward to the front line of everybody else,
But sometimes the so called 'love' make him blind,
in this period of time, in this moment.
Yet he's waiting... for the utmost important thing, the identity.
To make him a perfect man.
Or maybe... this world is always not perfect...
yea... always...
that's why I turn my love into hate,
turn my hate into ignorance and furiousity,
but please forgive me,
for what I've done,
to you... ... ...
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