Dedicated to professor Hoffman with the deepest feelings
of respect and appreciation for the inspiration,
motivation, encouragement and support.  

"Who's to say where the wind will take you?
Who's to say what it is will break you?
I don't know which way the wind will blow..." (U2 - Kite)
   

"The wind blows eastwards," she murmured, (apparently) to
herself since nobody was around. She was used to talking to
herself, as nobody ever was around. "It always blows
eastwards" she went on, standing in the midst of a deserted
street, and prancing to the tones of an unbearable cold. Her
unnaturally light-colored hair would hover and cover her
artificial smile; she cast towards every passing car. Her
vicious and dark eyes possessed a sly freedom, yet she was
chained in the pitilessness of a solitary street. And she
would stand there, on that sidewalk of this long, wide,
solitary street. Sometimes till the dawn, till the very
first rays of friendly sun would appear, till the deserted
street would turn into a crowded circus of hypocritical
clowns, and she would feel as if she was standing in the
middle of this crowded place and screaming yet nobody was
there to hear her.  
"I wonder if it would change its direction? Ever?" she
asked (herself). She never bothered to answer her own
questions; she never bothered to question her own choices.
She would just stand there and watch these passing cars.
Sometimes people would appear from nowhere and disappear
into a misty lump of fog and she would gaze at these people,
with her quiet but searching eyes, go in and out this big
building. Clarifying what was inside this big building never
trouble her, it was too big.
"I wonna be a lawyer when I'm big," she would answer these
irritating questions regarding her ambitions for her future.
Flesh backs of her pink-colored childhood would rise a smile
every now and then on her apathetic face, till the uncaring
and harsh reality would strike her one more time, and the
frosty, deserted street would laugh at her bitterly.
The gloomy sky uttered a voice full of rage and heavy drops
of rain bit by bit wetted the deserted street. Her
light-colored hair stuck to her rosy cheeks, and her lips
tenderly moved in a certain beat. She was humming an
unfamiliar song. She was cursing her fate and pledging her
soul if only she could live her life without bearing the
enforced burdens of her useless existence.    
The rain was joyfully watering the world. And she was still
standing by this big law building and watching these cars
passing by, till one of them would stop for her. And another
pleasure-seeker with no regard for conventional moralities
would enter the "red box of memories" of her pathetic life.

"Did I waste it?
Not so much I couldn't taste it"
(U2 - Kite)