I become a child again and I want morning to come so as to wake from the nightmare that steals the joy of the toy. How much do I miss this carefree era! All I needed was to wake in the morning. Now this is not enough anymore. It is trivial. I challenge my destiny. I become insatiable, blasphemous. But how else can I explain the fact that all this is happening and is happening to me? I believe that one must be chosen by destiny. I had no choice.
I plunged in that unique instance during a rainy night and I lost track of time, seasons and faces. Ever since that time, I worship my own Deity. I live, just to be able to caress her edges. Every place that I spent time on with her, becomes a Temple of worship. At every place I meet her, I feel unprecedented awe, as if the place enters into a new
