It`s Angela

A cool copywriter.



  Oh, to be a bird and fly away, fly as far as I can until my feathers start to fall. Oh, what a cruel world we live in, but not the sky, the sky is my escape; the moon…


Even in her deathbed She promised him— -“I’ll find you again, my love. In every lifetime I will be searching for your eyes.” -as she was holding into his hand, and as death was holding the other.