Risking to be god

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I have anorchard in the memory of my infancy where I still stop to meditate, filled withflowers and life in wich my vision plays with three colors: the infinite blueof the sky, wich gives me the desire to fly, the green of the bushes thatinvites me to hide inside and the white of the painted well that calls me tosatiate my inmense thirsts... Why are there goodbyes if they're so short?

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