The Man who Smiles to the Evil Spirits

I think I have seen your face once before and it was in the moment of hatred, in the moment of agony, in the downward spiral sucking all that I had. And now what do I have? That same face, with that innocent smile, in a new world and in a new dimension to me unknown. Who am I to judge with criteria of the past? Who am I to support progress when what happened drives my decisions? I smile to what will happen, whatever that is, whoever it comes from; perhaps it will be your face once again in the moment of chance, in the mishap of casuality, or should I say irony. Is that really you? Or is just something I dreamt of? I definitely cannot recall how I got here, where all the photos burnt, where all the songs went. It is definitely sure I will drift again like the ball of mercury, not caring of what is around, not caring of where I drifted before, and I will smile in oblivion. Perhaps I have been forgetting to forget?