ity was

the blackness that was slowly eating away at her heart was so ob

s, and then she took me out of the house. To clear my mind, I looked around,

reedom. The soft and capricious wind soothed the heart. Everything was alive and authentic, even the spirit of the people. They were all peasants, farmers, or c

ook me. But in those days, I already saw myself as different. If I could really

ty-two kilometers of road were not the problem, nothing had changed, nothing but me. I lost my innocence. I shook it off, and

erything to be over be

mother's kiss on

omplished only once. But in that moment I was too drained to reach its beauty, a

ee this cavern filled with sadness, rob

s, not once I assumed my responsibility as a parent, I only took the excuse of being a child,

ng else, to believe that there was

e seasons, beautiful and so moving, but still meant a sonnet showing the passing of time. Peop

ver been able to recover it. The only thing that mattered now was to enjoy life as much as I was allo

t has swung between her present life and her future life, but would it not have been a greater cowardice to refuse this great happiness. In a

myself refused all the opportunities to discover love, both physical and emotional, simply because I felt nothing. I lived