“Everyday before go to sleep she felt restless.
She was always too tired of being tired all the time. She always had tears in
her eyes for having nothing to cry for... Is there such place as home? Who can
guide me there? She always wanted to feel more, say more and understand more,
but everyone seemed not to feel or understand her... Her message was clear,
just love, but this was too much for people to get. Why coudn’t all this be easier? She just wanted to love
someone without losing herself in vague feelings. Maybe she was broken, maybe
she was wrong, but that was all she had and all she knew from life. When it
starts raining, the tears just fall down to earth, and I feel like crying and
falling in to pieces. She had just one wish, but it was too far from reality,
and she was not real, and just because she wasn’t real, she could exist and
keep going on. She was the only part of us which really exists, that part we
deny and push aside, but we know it is there. She was hope.”
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