I did not give birth to you to be my cancellation (contrary to all my grandmother's orders). You are here now. But one day you will leave. You will have your joys and sorrows. You will not repeat my autumn, and my summer will not seduce you. (To believe that you will sing other people's songs, hopes are false and in vain.) I can't hide you in my palm--- I'm always comfortable there. Thus, you will waste your youth, and I will hate myself for the rest of my life. You are a bird! How will I keep you?! I will only offer you wings. Sometimes you come back with them so that I can take the knife out of your back...
