Conversation

I am seemingly drowning in the sand now — each grain is a small piece of memory. There are broad sunsets with warm rain and golden hours, wars and moments of historic upheaval, tears from struggles and a tearing feeling of love, enlivening research and innovation..
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Each memory is worth a novel: sometimes I want to write it with the pen in a diary to hide it, sometimes I can’t wait to tell the world. I would dive into it again, so that instead of sand — a blue ocean. I don’t need to breathe there, just to hold my breath a bit longer.
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