I am not a fan of being one’s inspiration to something. I am uber-ly attached to being left alone. Because the world is too crippled to deal with. And of all the things in the world, silence is what comforts me the most. Everything else is waiting to rot to the ground, which will be absorbed by the same world who promised its worldly possessions. To live everyday and to die every single day has evolved into some kind of an adage that has been hardly acceptable to point out.