Many times when a person walks on the street, he will feel as if he has lost his way in the heavy fog. The past days are drifting away behind him or buried in deep memories. Yesterday's bus is no longer what it is today. Everything ended in that summer when even the sun felt hot, that bitterly cold summer. All the feelings, dependence and farewell disappeared in the season behind me, and they all rushed towards the grand death together on that day when they thought they could be desperate. Because there was no one who could wait for me on the other side of the night, I endured loneliness as a person's carnival, and then it became a habit, walking through those long days with a strange profile.