The worries that come one by one are involuntarily selected from my hair and wrapped around my fingers. It is as if time stands still and everything sinks into endless suspension. I am unaware that I have been left in the middle of a swamp of cacti. But I still do not believe it; Maybe I’m used to living with cacti. Lifelong cacti shoot at me like life’s misfortunes. The blades that are in the ups and downs of life, for me (us), are repeated incidents…