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Last Saturday, as I was forced to walk through the city and look at everything around me, I had a persistent feeling that I was a ghost, forced to watch the living, while I myself am dead and can only feel hopelessness and despair. Perhaps, it would be more peaceful among black trees and walking dead.
Небо – мольбы не ждёт Небо – угроз не слышит Небо – ведёт особый счёт Небо – тебя найдёт