I can't remember how many nights it slipped between my fingers while flipping through the paper. With the passing of people like this, I will hear the lingering sound of my commitment to life all the time, and feel that the passage of time is gradually diluting my youth and ignorance. I wish I was a fully wound clock, leaving every fulfilling moment of myself in the non-stop flow of day and night...
I wrote this article just because I felt that what others wrote was not to my taste...
As for the copy, though, ignore it.