I write only for myself. Again and again. It can not end until I leave. But still I’m here. There are always the same questions and the same answers. But maybe there is one question never asked, one answer never given? Maybe that’s the reason why it goes on and on.

I’m alone. I have to be alone, I know that. And yet there is this longing for somebody who would understand. True love is to die for each other. But if you don’t you love yourself, nobody will ever love you. So love yourself and die for yourself!

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