The oppressed always repeat that in death there is salvation from the torments of this world, and I repeat defiantly: I will not despair, I will not surrender, I will live life like a free bird, I look into the eye of the sun at sunrise, and I deposit its disc at sunset, and I fly... and I fly, traveling with the light, rebelling against distances and borders, exploring the big world, I am not terrified by ghosts, and I am not shackled by memory.
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