we moves soon

to hindustan. we wraps up all our stuff. we empties the closets, we finds old things. first paycheck, forgotten mails, neglected coins. we sorts the valuables mechanically from the invaluables. It fills our heart, the settled dust. What is it they say? Yeh death. This ending of something. This is the ending of our life here. Inevitably, the people will become distant, no matter what they say now, what we say now. And as time passes by, we'll have pictures left to tell the tales. Not flickr, mental and dental (Here now we call upon witness to God for all the dental work we've undergone). Why does this happen. Why do we become attached, and why do we have to leave then. Why is this our nature. Why. and why do the teeth decay. Stupid teeth.