miss...

still... i have to admit that sometimes i feel like missing... not that face, or that person... just miss a part in me... coz what's left now is a blank that can't be fulfilled...

One Hundred Years of Solitude

Already read a half! The main theme in the book is about many kinds of solitude that men create for themselves by pride, selfishness, love, relationship & war.

After all, no matter where we are, we all have a small corner in our soul that no one can ever reach... Their fault? for cannot comprehend us? or ours? for we never let someone have a chance to touch it?