I splash my head with ice-cold water and turn to face the mirror. When my image appears I instinctively look away. Is there a truth on the other side that we do not want to see?

I would like to be a philosopher in ancient Athens and a poet in ancient China.

I succeeded in using my charms like a weapon; I learned to play with other's hearts and to master my own desires.

I have written too much about lives - I feel I have lived for too long.

I notice the silvery hair at his temples with a tinge of sadness. Why do parents grow old? Life is a castle of lies slowly dismantled by the passage of time. I regret not spending more time looking at the people I love.

Dying is so simple. A fleeting moment of suffering. In the blink of an eye you are over the threshold, into another world. No more pain, no more fears. You sleep so well there. Dying is like rubbing snow together, setting fire to a whole winter of cold and ice.

Years have passed and how I am anxiously watching the twilight of my childhood, quietly sinking, never to rise again.