It's a strange feeling when you're about to leave a place, because you know that you will not only miss the people you love, but also the person you are at that time. Because you know you'll never be as you are at that moment, nothing really lasts, not even the thoughts in your head. Here. This is already a memory.
It doesn't exist anymore. Sometimes it seems to me that life is a huge carousel and without me noticing it goes faster and faster, it's fun to think that when we were little there were days that find infinity and now all those years seem to me to have passed in the blink of an eye. Calvino once said: "Children's boredom is a special thing, it's full of dreams, a kind of projection in another dimension, another reality. In adulthood boredom is made of repetition, the continuation of something from which we do not expect any surprises." Do you ever think about how long you exist in other people's lives? I often wonder if people think of me when they hear a particular song or when the sky is of a certain color or when they pass in my way home; I often wonder if there are still in the minds of people who are no longer with me. I often wonder how are you, what do you do, what dreams you have, I wonder if the world is treating you well and if the number of good days exceeded that of bad days.

I hope you think of mee too
and I want you to know that I don't miss you anymore
but I still remember everything.

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