I was born, in a sunny day, and then I forgot everything.
Until, once, I saw a street in the light, knowing form that now who I was and who I still am.
I enjoy myself thinking about the scary future, that I see in a certain way...But, I mean, who does really know about these things?
I occupy my precious time with readings and listenings and watchings, of which every other teen ager in my "land" wouldn't even casually dream of.
I find fun writing in a language I don't speak, on the only space where every one on the planet could, for luck (or better misfortune) stumble, and laugh about my silly lines.
(V)

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my Death is someone else's Life