My life as a ball of air (.o.)

You played with me. I can’t remember the year precisely for I never aged. Every now and then I need to inhale a lump sum of air and that is all I consume. I literally live on air just as the monks in Himalayas do. I have breathed the same oxygen that Socrates, Shakespeare, Shelley had consumed. I hold history. Continue reading “My life as a ball of air (.o.)”