I can’t imagine how frigid the Arctic is. I could envision that I might underestimate how horrible it’s temperature would be. Sometimes, the beauty of the Arcitic beckons, but I know I can’t wing my way over the sea there. So I often lost myself in the illustration of it on books. I want someone to hear me out about my thoughts, like talking to an elder man in longevity. Perhaps with the development of frontier science and some technology of cutting edge to come, I would go to the place where I swear by the power of meditation. I hope it be on the horizon and my waiting wouldn’t span years. Maybe the answer of my dream is tucked in what happened in my life. And what I need to do is to go through the maze of trouble.
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