Scurry shortcuts'm getting my own way. I go away. I try to step on my way. And so it always find myself. A wanderer with uncertain path that meets your certainties in their own walk. Sometimes the voices in my mind and I make noise enough to listen to others. So I abstracts from my silence. It is a voluntary recall I look wherever I am. I hear over and over again. I hear my convictions and my reproach, my sacrifices and my happiness, my stubbornness and my detachment. And with my own noise is sufficient. I have plenty. José
Roberto Coppola
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