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Cuando no recordamos lo que nos pasa, nos puede suceder la misma cosa. Son esas mismas cosas que nos marginan, nos matan la memoria, nos queman las ideas, nos quitan las palabras.
Si la historia la escriben los que ganan, eso quiere decir que hay otra historia: la verdadera historia, quien quiera oir que oiga. Nos queman las palabras, nos silencian, y la voz de la gente se oirá siempre. Inútil es matar, la muerte prueba que la vida existe.
- What is the picture for you?
- When you walk down the street, do you feel that every blink is a catch?, Did worst as well as most desires? A blurred vision can be perfect?
"Hm, no.
- I repeated the question.
- What is the picture for you?
- What is my photography? I've said.
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