|Last time I saw him, he told me that he will return to Poland soon. I
don't know where is he now, but he could be in this glass of water and I cannot know when he will just dissapear or
where he will appear.
I feel guilty, because I've just tucked away his life story and made my own creation. I lied about him, and now, he is not the same person any more.
In fact, I can't talk about him. I don't know him any more. We didnít see each other for a long long time, and I don't know where he is.
|Everything I had in my mind about him and about all the other
people in my life, start to pale when they stop appearing. Somehow, a time has brought them away from me and
they stop existing but I'm not conscious of that.
They stop to be material in my world, they transform into shadows, I suppose, or into ghosts, while they completely dissappear.
And after all, I can remember them years after, I can remember them as my something; someone has written a poem for me, someone gave me an ox, someone has remembered me, years ago.