狠狠撸

Dhaka, Bangladesh

In the dead of winter, a gush of wind blows away the dead leaves, just like our faces gets lost with millions of others...Walking along the passage of the time, all that remains is the memory, may be it is our memory that exists rather than our being i am Me...there is no one else exactly like me....i own everything about me....i own my fantasies...my dreams...my fears...