This is not a new chapter, I couldn't make myself to finish it no matter how hard I tried, I am very sorry, this week, the time passed me by without letting me to finish anything, just to start something and then to let it unfinished. I am very sorry for this though...

This is a bit from the next chapter just so I won't let you without anything because I am really sorry.

The next chapter might be up in this week or even on 21, 22, or 23 October, and then I will continue to make it once per week, so Chapter 12 might be up on 28, 29, or 30 October. Hopefully someone will forgive me, I'm very sorry.

So, from the next chapter:

I know it was supposed to be a long sunny summer
But somehow, drops of water have begun to fall from the sky,
The pouring rain which has called from somewhere a merciless wind
But the drops of water have become snowflakes, and I wonder...
'Where's my summer?'

Scarf after scarf, I search for your smell
But just air with no perfume I inhale over and over again,
In the ocean of faces, in the theatre filled with masks
I can't stop myself from looking at each one of them
'Where are you now?'

All alone I walk, and I have no destination at all
But all that I know, is that I am alone, searching for a dream...
Lost my faith, lost my hope in love but, I'm still...
Searching for a sign that might be right after the corner...
'No...Maybe the next one...'

Once, I knew how to smile, I felt alive...
But now, I can't remember how...
Once, I knew only one season, the summer...
But now, I can't find the sun... and I'm...I'm...
'I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy.'

Chapter 11: Goodbye, but I love you

"I see the white clouds moving along with the earth, I see this now, with my two black wide opened eyes, as if I'm curious, as if I'm searching for a sign in the sea of clouds that have countless colors. Even the shadows are masking the purple, blue or black, maybe even other colors.

The ghostly moon looks back at me with its unchanging stare, as if asking me: 'Why do I waste the fact that despite being a dot for her on this planet, I don't move, like I am a planet, rotating around the sun, along with all the other planets, being no different, not even trying to be different anymore.

Thinking very silently, within myself: 'Around the sun, or around you… almost burned.'

Somehow, I'm waiting for the moon itself, to tell me: 'Go after him'; but it just makes me feel even more worthless, or even more desperate and shameful.

The wind hides himself around the tress, moving the leaves, whispering to me, and the white clouds slowly becoming even more colorful, but sad, with a grey color, as if I didn't already know: 'The storm is coming.' "

See you around this week, or on weekend. Again, sorry and thank you.