All the steps she took to change her life brought her to the very same point each time she tried: end or beginning of a cliff. She was not a promising pilgrim apparently. She was defeated every time she tried.. To be defeated better for the next time. She decided to find a tragedian one day. Not the one who makes tragedies (she was already good at it), but the one who writes them. Sisyphus had Camus, why not her? She needed the witness of a second pair of eyes. ‘This much comedy, and irony, and contradictions should not be wasted, all this crap should be crowned.’
Sirens rang again to celebrate her 1280th age. The pangs of the birth of a new life started roaring in her ears, giving only pain. Yes, life began again! Life began again for some reason, "as if a train came off the rails in her body". Fortunately, the final station is getting closer, her cries of help are still heard.
‘Do you think that pain has limits?’
All the abysses are shallow,
All the words are provisional
A song unspoken, unclaimed
Same sky, same grief
There’s nothing ever-changing
Except for a magenta death..
'Was it all a lie?’ she asked the dream she’d taken refuge in.
Said ‘it is only someone else that can be born from your ashes’.
