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Sirens! Sirens! Sirens! They fade in my eyes, bringing confusion to the essence of my soul: loneliness, detachment from any eye made it clear who I am. How many people like me are single? How many eternally wandering and, in my head, majestic sirens, just like me, are here? I do not know anyone and no one knows me, and is it true that what I do is one? You are my Emilia Flege, stay with me, I’m about to find what I’ve wanted all my life, you know how Gustav Klimt needs paints. I know, and this, my letter, will find the fate of five minutes of decay in your humble courtyard. As you can see, I’m still attracted to whores, apparently I lied when I said it wouldn’t last, but I blame you for everything, you know, I can do it.q And if someone had told me a year ago that everything would happen the way it is now, I would have refused to believe it. My thoughts are still somewhere in July, and everything before that, I just forgot. I forgot who I was, what I was thinking, what I was doing. Apparently I have become a god, my thoughts are ahead of everyone, my only problem is that I will not be able to look at myself from the outside.
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