It is always the same. At first I fear the change, I fear the crisis, I deny that it exists. I squirm and wind, wishing for an easy way out. And I feel it coming closer, the collision, the end, death. I feel dying long …
It is always the same. At first I fear the change, I fear the crisis, I deny that it exists. I squirm and wind, wishing for an easy way out. And I feel it coming closer, the collision, the end, death. I feel dying long …