my darling,
I'm waiting for you.How long is a day in the dark or a week?Fire in gone now and I'm cold,horribly cold.I really want to drag myself outside,but then there'd be the sun.I'm affraid I the light on the paintings and on writing these words.
We die, we die rich with lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have entered and swum up like rivers, fears we have hidden in like this wretched cave. I want all this marked on my body. We are the real countries, not the boundaries drawn on maps with names of powerful men. I know you will come and carry me out into the palace of winds, that's all I've wanted- to walk in such a place with you, with friends, on the earth without maps.
The lamp’s gone out and I’m writing in the darkness.
You know what,I really hate war.Really.No matter in what cases,the so-called"for better tommorow""for the most's goodness"is all nonsense excuses.It's just the policians' beatiful wards.There is no justice,no fairness.We just normal people hoping for common lives,That's enough.To save my lover,to save my friends,to save my fellows,to save my patients----that's what in my mind,and that's what we try to do.The war is colder then the desert.To be alive is a tough thing,let alone to meet even to own love.Hannah is a lucky girl.I really think so.But she deserve it.Don't you agree with it?The war is cruel.However,each one in this story is warm.They are