The snow supposed to eventually fall has really fallen. The future that I thought would come is becoming a reality every day, and one day it will sweep my life away to a completely different place. We have no choice but to accept the waves that come and go, one by one. Everything is in a constant state of flux, and nothing stays the same. We have to accept that everything is constantly changing and that this "me" is also only a temporary form. Even so... I want to write down little things happened to me, made into the pictures made of silver grain, and leave them as tangible things, before my memory disappears, until the time this "me" disappear. And life goes on, keeping changing. In the midst of the days, There are faint, far-off echoes on a moment's notice. There are things that can be seen only in the dark. They seems not to be clearly visible to our eyes, but I surely heard the faint echoes and surely felt ambiguous motions, as I was there for sure. With a tiny old camera nestled in my daily life, I am scooping up the little echoes and ambiguous motions on paper, in order to enshrine the ambiguous sentiment that was certainly there, and to enshrine that "me" who was certainly there at that time.