Born in September twenty nine zero ...
as a feather in the wind accompanied my life rested on a bench wet ...
poised between his two aces ...
God alone and the wind, riders of the future, they know how it got here,
know which roads have their own path, which has embarked on forks, Which countries have crossed ...
before the fate of the accompanying magic here ...
and I ...
helpless and unable to move my own destiny ...
I just slowed down the pace of my breath ...
until it becomes almost imperceptible, eternal ...
to give hope to my soul serene ... durable, strong, perpetual ...
invincible
now I'm here ...
on the streets of my past
to retrace my future ...
following a line ...
daughter of thousands of possible bifurcations ...
each of which life, in his chaotic determinism, has already made a choice ...
march the 21st, 7:44 am somewhere ...
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