I was looking good, I was watching my own eyes, the mirror was over there in front of me for years.
Now I am exhausted. The mirror is waiting for me to get inside as soon as possible but to be careful, to stay away from the caressing gestures, to avoid loving words because they will give my soul to the devil.
I am not here. I am obediently staying under the huge umbrella, the pool beyond the mountains is capturing the heavy rain and is whispering... "run, run and wash your face! run away towards this crysalid, enter my eye as quickly as possible so that the fire should miss you!"
And the umbrella is here, what shall I do with it? (...)
And I miss my own happiness.