Everything breaks free in between my hands, and evaporates. (My recollection, my imagination and what it includes of my photographs, all my life-time). Everything breaks free from my grasp, and vanishes. I feel over and over again that I'm a self not belonging to me... but maybe it could occur to get back pages I have written before, when I was too much young; at 16 I marked some sayings... And I wrote other citations at the end of teenager, and now I see product of the person who I am today and which the years and things have shaped his existence.
I ought to avow that I am the same person whom I've been by now...I feel about those pages, as I am into an old picture... (picture of mine undoubtedly) %)
I ought to avow that I am the same person whom I've been by now...I feel about those pages, as I am into an old picture... (picture of mine undoubtedly) %)
P.S. We all need that person who can be true to you*
