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In the midst of the long loss between what I want and what I don't want,
between what the days impose on me, I always feel that I must escape and turn away. I don't feel a connection to anything around me, as if I were a
ghost, a shadow, your pictures without an identity. I don't know where I will go after I have crossed all those roads! Like a fragile autumn leaf carried by the winds wherever they
wish

And what is my fault if the soul
is a sign of longing for you?