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Sometimes it seems that life begins to resemble indiscriminate, endless walking in a circle, even more like running … Running is meaningless, not bringing either relief or pleasure, but exhausting, rolling with legs. You stop only when the legs are no longer able to make at least some movement, the heart is ready to jump out of the chest, and the lungs are ready to burst from the burning air at any moment.
T-shirt sticks to the back, drops of sweat flow down the flushed face. Continue reading