I collect secrets, put them in line and keep them in my thoughts. You can find secrets everywhere, you just need to know how to observe, be careful, there are all kinds and they are all different, the secrets, I collect them and put them in a row in my thoughts. Only, one day, I happened to find two identical secrets, in my collection, it had never happened, and since that day, my secrets, I could not make them stand in line in my thoughts, it was a completely confused and painful situation and nothing happened to change her. And in this way I entered a state of discontent and mania and from this state there was no way out, or so it seemed to me in those confused and painful days.
I collect thoughts of waves, unexplored castles, I return to the depths of destiny, soft entry, in the middle of my breath I open every sound. Possibility of the story leaving on the dust of the objects I collect. The courage of a memory terrified to be a memory. Shaking a thousand times, a thousand nights, for one less letter on the pillow. What number have you arrived at, trapeze artist? I rock on my bed full of music CDs. I miss the dance of music on the candles, it was so good to ramble together. Mysteriously tuned, instruments of the mind, threads nailed to the wall of the heart. I don’t know any out of tune notes, broken armor, frozen lapilli and the volcano always has the red light of the rose.
I like the night. The night is that place where it is always too late to regret what you did the day before and where it is too early to regret what you will do the next day. Night is a time where sins don’t exist. Broken voice, breath and blood, the first dreamless night. Reanimate the heart with black lines. Chasing an “A” and ending with a “B”, as in an equation with no unknowns. Tears of emptiness over the souvenirs. Cries of wind make room in the city.
Over time, over the course of my life I have learned to change the sound of my step, I remember when as a child I came running and my step had the sound of laughter, you could hear it from afar arriving with energetic joy, then I grew up and for a short time he became shy, silent and calmer, then changed to a clicking of heels, he went back to being noisy but judicious, like a sensual predator who attracts her victims by making noise, as if announcing herself, like a trap, then mine favorite, the noise became rubbery and comfortable of boots and amphibians a mixture of adventure and lightheartedness, until now that my step is silent and furtive like that of felines, now that I walk life barefoot.

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