Waiting for me is the vast emptiness of Polish plains, the very heart of North European Plains. But now from my place in Lazdynai I watch the silence of a dying city. A place that spreads memories out from its brutal conception. Even the aligned flats express to me a lost tendency of living for the future.
I am perhaps living the lives of those before me, those who dreamed of the present I was given. Sheer up, soul.
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