This house, these walls and all this paintings with people looking strange at me,  and smiling, giggling or whistling, they still my happiness each day. They do not live, they do not die, they are not real, neither am I.

I lost my life long time ago, I lost my youth and all my beauty. I gained an endless walk through time trapped in a castle with no king.

The world moved on, I moved with it. The world has changed, I stayed the same.

I have no locks, no doors, no windows; my house is opened all the time. I’m free to leave each time I want. I won’t get far though, as the land keeps me from crossing the cold river.

My blood has roots. My blood has life, eternal life on cursed ground. This is no paradise or hell. This is my purgatory.

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