I’m looking at the sky getting dark, while skyscrapers of dollars are lighted in front of me.

I think I’m in need of honesty.

I’m sorry for my disorder.
Everybody finds what he/she needs in his/her own mess, isn’t it? Well, I’m trying to find my own me. And I hope you’ll find yourself somehow, too.

I’m a lonely traveler, I was a daughter, perhaps a sister. I’m a writer because I need to write. Not that I like it. I’m neither good at it. I just need it.
Don’t judge please. Let’s for one time do not judge, anybody, anything, let’s just see and be curious and be open and be.
Each of us has his own disorder, and his own way to walk trough it.

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