This book is outside the genre. This book is like a memory in which a variety of observations and sensations, attachments and rejections, experiences and deeds have been accumulated. My effort is to tell true stories that may seem fictitious to someone. Fiction cannot be separated from reality. Fiction is its decoration, and even vice versa. It’s impossible to draw a line between them. Thicken, thicken! Thought, feeling, intention. And don’t look for consistency in this narrative. This doesn’t often happen to us, except that day and night inevitably alternate, gains with losses. But life does not cease to be life until it ends, also without any visible sequence. If you live to comparable years, you will understand.