Then it came to my mind the idea I was really destined to born the other place. Crossing the full of water the muse is found.
I thought that èpoque was a dream not became true. A dream becoming a nightmare. A reminder of a nightmare.
But it is a matter that life keeps going on and the ad companies continues working.
Do I really inherit from him more than the walking way and the capability to not become bald? Then I must be scared. Then I already know I won’t love with certainty. Not with the passion I preach, but with the sharing intention my eyes sometimes wear.