live begin with experience n knowledge..since 23 years,i'm been looking for someone who may believe me..consider me as a stubborn..in fact,there is some guy who make it real..hehehe..
What is our life? A play of passion, Our mirth the music of division, Our mother's wombs the tiring-houses be, Where we are dressed for this short comedy. Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is, That sits and marks still who doth act amiss. Our graves that hide us from the setting sun Are like drawn curtains when the play is done. Thus march we, playing, to our latest rest, Only we die in earnest, that's no jest.
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