My stories are like the heat of a
fire. You look at it and you wonder, what is this orange, goldish and red power
in front of your eyes. It attracts you as it attracts oxygen, though it dries
you out of it as well. You want to know it, you want to explore but, alas, the
pain it may cause.
It is a reflection; the colors
are memories. Feelings. You open it and you enter a whole new dimension of the
unknown person you have known for so long.
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