I tell you honestly; I am only good at talk with my trees. But don't worry, you don't get bored of amazement, I'm a very magical box, awesome, and weird. Of course, I am not blind as you think, but I do not see all this glory and this sparkle in your samar, I only see a stone and a faint word for the cold moment. Hurray, hurray, my beautiful life. This is the trunk of absence; it is intense and black and it destroys the stories of my grandparents coldly. These tales tell me what they saw shadows when their nights were immersed in the water of samar. Oh, how long my soul yearns for samar; a warm talk in the lovely evening.