Sometimes I feel like I am a traveler from future. I am not allowed to talk about whimper. I am agonized. If I make slight alternation in anything, I may destroy the future. At the same time I am forced to witness events without being part of them, without changing them. I envy the people who live in their own time, who can act at will, oblivious of the future, ignorant of the effects of their actions. But I can not act. I am an inert gas, a ghost, a sheet without soul. I have lost my person hood. I am an exile of time.
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