Moranae Isilith … happy Melancoly

Rooted in Reality, she is only Nostalgia. She has an insatiable taste for living and for looking back.

She imagines life as a tree of birds, and to reborn again she had to leave.

In her mind, Travel is a poem. Abstract or Real, they meet.

White page… Errand… they blend.

You start tracing, making turns, crossing the different steps of an imaginary and real time, you stop to breath and think, zigzagging through the abstract synthesis of your experience by taking shortcuts: intelligence, memory, sensitivity, dreams, denial, hope. Between voice and silence, she feels breaks and continuities between the land and people.

And finally one day, while contemplating the vastness, to the oath you will not forget, soul subsided, pausing to exist, you find your Home.

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