You’re arrogant. 


And I felt how many different sides of the world you’re missing out. 
I wanted to reach out to that world, that you lost every day.

Your past lives came into my life suddenly. I had to wreck the emptiness of our conversation.
I couldn’t be the good memory of you as I had to drift away somewhere far from here. 

For the judgments you made about my life, I couldn’t ask you to feel guilty. 
Everything flowed gently, and I witnessed it here. 

Perhaps I had known this feeling all along. Maybe you believed that everything would be possible from you, and it started from you.
And you never gave a hand to all the impossible things. So that day, I had to drift away somewhere far from here. 

Every time, I came back to here near you, anticipating something different. In all those places in a blackout,
how could I begin our next story among all frozen thoughts and stagnant objects?

Perhaps you are not arrogant, or you might be, but to survive here. You probably had to be arrogant.
You weren’t given enough time to break all those stereotypes on your own.

Even so, we could not break the blackout of our conversation in this back of the world.
I’ve lost the way to get closer to you.