text: I Remember, for years I was, and my world was, and nothing else, and I knew everything. I knew that I loved progress, and I created the walk. I knew that I was alone, and I created you. I knew that I loved you, and I created love. I knew that I wanted to have fun, and I created the world for you. I knew that you loved me, and created our nights. I knew we were tired, and I made the trip. I knew that we were afraid, and I created patience. Years passed and I was my world, and you were our world. One day you told me you were tired and I was surprised how I did not know. The next day I asked you what I wanted, and I did not know. The next day I asked you where to go, and I did not know. The next day I asked you how much I love you, and I did not know. The next day you said you want to go, and I'm afraid. The next day you went, and I no longer knew anything, and I created God to be your keeper. The life of a large bowl is full of cherries; red and black and coarse and fresh. One for me, one for you; do not bite the cores, break your teeth, believe it. It's a strange misfortune. This separation lasted for weeks and months, and it still burns for years; it is a hundred mercy for giving birth. I said, "Do not listen to me again, you may read." Remember what life was like? Was dark at night? Sofa in front of me was always empty? You do not know how busy you are, go and go, sprinkle and spit, play games, lessons, ice cream, travel, work, phone, machineries, subscriptions to business journals, shopping and laundry; remember the city of Farang? The same is under Windows; but it's still empty. It's as if all this screaming and humor does not sound at all, whatever the echoes are, the memories of the days that will not come back. Remember you said I will not do anything to you after you? I lied. Now there is someone sitting on the side of the table and listening to my words, sometimes laughing. Now, there is one person in my eyes looking for the same things that you went with yourself. When it is, it's fun, but when it does not, it's still empty. It's ridiculous, is not it? It has been summer. Last night I wanted to leave your vacancy with winter clothes in a large suitcase behind my wardrobe. I'm sorry. Winter is coming back, but what about you? We went to winter and I brought the clothes again; then I would stay with you again. I bought a large pot and a sunflower, yellow and black, tall and tight, a thin neck with a cute and brittle bend toward the sun and the window. For the moment, it has solved the problem. Life is a bowl full of cherries. Sour and sweet, red and black. None of the two is the same. It is true that your place is empty and may never be filled, but there are other places and other people who fill them. It's time for sunflowers to glow in the sun from sunrise to sunset every day, so there's nothing wrong with it. Now that he is taking care of the sun, I can also come to my life. I take another cherry, one step ahead, stronger, more relaxed, safer.