I wake up in the morning there is snow everywhere, like in the movies, when children go to school happy and screaming. I also do not go to school, happy cry.
The few hours of sleep, the ambitions, the possibilities. The hearts of millions is like mine, looking for what? Something. A job, a house, an independent life. When the hands move pushed by forces of another, that is life? When you're not aa decide when you have to ask permission for everything, when you seti humiliated in front of your slightest whim? Is not life.
I want a life and come here to look for pieces. From the window I see white. The whiteness of the void? Or purity? The white of any color.
Before me there's a crossroads.
There is nothing on the horizon, only roads to the streets.
