As a being of silence, I like to get away from glances full of hate, sounds that make me go crazy everyday, people unreached by understanding, common sense and love. Their sounds have no inner purpose, just groaning devoid of meaning, moving mouths, filthy tongues, languages unknown to me.
Nature never forgets.
The scent of rain falling upon the soil, the pine trees, the flowers
They always have the same kind of smell
The scent discernible
Unlike the filthy streets.
Their filthy hearts.
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