Sirens

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*If life is but an activity that keeps you away from yourself, you cannot draw a picture of your own.*

of us belong to ourselves. All we do is to lick each other into shape for *them* and to gnaw the humanity. All those who think they have a meaning are mistaken. Because we do not live. We only get ready for death!

Why do we fight for absence?

Why do we keep quiet whereas we need to shout out, and watch ourselves burn finely? Why? For whom?
Questions, questions, questions… While I was writing this book, I talked to my shadow and we looked for answers together a lot. She was not like us. She was just herself, and she was not afraid at all.