Reverse Migration

I feel like I'm gone inside. He grows as he walks. Actually, I'm sorry I'm missing a part of it because it's time to go. What the hell am I gonna miss?

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Have you stayed in the country? There is no guarantee that no concert will take place. It's not a camel. Bi plane, bi concert ticket. I'm not gonna be so upset about the gigs I missed.

Have we seen each other out of the city's bustle? How many times have we met? It's always a coincidence. The coincidence is the rest. Facebook has not, facetime!

It's like there's no place where I'm going. I'm not going to stay with myself and my loved ones anyway? To spend more time with them. Does it ever break the memory of a cup of coffee?

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I wish we could've been on the ferry line. The island ferry pattern has already taken the sound of the other country. Soon they go.

I don't know that place anymore. Every time I leave, I'm flinging home. If I'm breathless as I walk on Istiklal Street, it's definitive information!

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