feeling the need to write when speaking is not enough.
We are all deads at the end. And we have no idea what, and how will happen. Or, are we dead already, or just living abortions in this whole alone world lonely?
On 24th November,the great citizens of Amsterdam were trying to ignore the freezing cold (i was doing my best with converses) to watch a great and free 45-minute show which was organized for the famous high-end store De Bijenkorf to turn its lights on. It was awkward but in a nice way. The only thing got me was this piece of show,with angels spraying fake snow and surrounding a men and a women singing,playing violin at the same time. De Bijenkorf turn the lights on and stayed open until midnight,but who are we to go in and shop?