Изменения успешно внесены.
If I am ever to get old and not die at the ripe age of 34,I will certainly go live on an island.
One little island in the Arctic Sea,just a couple of kilometres North of Canadian shores.
Where nothing stops the wind and where snow will bury my troubles underneath.
I will live in exile, isolated from the worldly happenings and die in solitude.
This is my only wish.
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However, until this faithful day I must be present in this world.
I seek no reward,I see no promise.
I survive on little pieces of dignity still left inside the cold hearts of strangers.
I am a scavenger.
I was a hunter.
But as I get older, the years seem to take my power with them when they leave.
Strange.