... the end.

I’m tired of lying to myself, because of it I’m going to go out dressed on transparency, wearing this resistant boots to my fire skin, I know I cannot still barefoot, my feet have recovered after walk over rocky territories, unsuccessful territories. I’m not worried about get dirty the jail of my soul with food wastes, with the shit that sprouts of the sewer, with blood of cat, with oil of car or others substances that I can find there; the big world of the dump, where long time ago I threw out the biggest of my treasures; my dignity, my essence of The crazy Mary…

…the end is the beginning is the end.