maybe i did it already. i have a terrible memory and i am unable to keep many personal mysteries just to myself.
i believe in reincarnation.
once, i was a book.
i was a name. i was lispector.
she is me. and she knew it.
but just partly.
unfortunately, i am not such a great writer, nor such a corageous one.
luckily, i believe i am happier. or i hide my sadness better to myself.
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