The leaves are like people… Some are drowning deep into the bottom and slowly rotting there … Others dive and reappear; you do not know when or where. Thirds just flow downstream, afraid to resist.
And there are those who are there where they have to be. They seem to be not exclusive, but also so glamorous. It seems not they look for us but we find them.And when we find them, we don’t overpass them indifferently.
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