I don`t know whether it is
the right time to say something about my tattoo. Anyway, I
don`t care.
It was hurt to
have a tattoo, never forget that. I thought it can take the place
of my heart bleeding, but it turned out to be much pain
both in my skin and heart. I am a kind of stupid but I don`t regret
having done that.It`s cool and make me feel like I can
become someone else,and I am addicted to having tattoo.I won`t drop
it, either the cigarettes.
When I realize the blanks
in my life,it was too late.I wonder why my friends are sure about
their marrige in the future,why they are so confidence that they
will have babies and lead a happy life.These
are all puzzled me,maybe I am an
o
Perhaps it was the middle of January in the present that I
first looked up and saw the mark on the wall. In order to fix a
date it is necessary to remember what one saw. So now I think of
the fire; the steady film of yellow light upon the page of my book;
the three chrysanthemums in the round glass bowl on the
mantelpiece. Yes, it must have been the winter time, and we had
just finished our tea, for I remember that I was smoking a
cigarette when I looked up and saw the mark on the wall for the
first time. I looked up through the smoke of my cigarette and my
eye lodged for a moment upon the burning coals, and that old fancy
of the crimson flag flapping from the castle tower came into my
mind, and I thought of the cavalcade of red knights riding up the
side of the black rock. Rather to my relief the sight of the mark
interrupted the fancy, for it is an old fancy, an automatic fancy,
made as a child perhaps. The mark was a small round mark, black
upon the white wall, about six or sev