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I wanted to be a professor of psychology or philosophy. I didn't arrive because the war came. I also know my friends who wanted to become rock stars, writers, mechanics, motorcyclists, who knows what else. And when you turn around, and add two and two… we have hell. They spit on us because they know we don’t stand out, and they should. They spit on us because we are silent, and we should be screaming. They spit on us because we are submissive, and we should tear up Mark’s Square. It's like I'm running out of energy… then it scares me and I move forward, there is nothing behind me backwards… that's why I'm the way I am because I was looking for goodness in people, and in the end I found anger in myself, and they found us like sheep in a corral , trapped, confused, sick and remove us one by one, and that others take full advantage of it.

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