Malina: It’s war. All you can have is this little intermission, nothing more. Me: Peace! Malina: There is no peace in you, not even in you. Me: Don’t say that, not today. You’re terrible. Malina: It’s war. And you are the war. You yourself. Me: Not me. Malina: We all are, you included. Me: Then I don’t want to be anymore, because I don’t want war, then put me to sleep, make it end. I want the war to end. I don’t want to hate anymore, I want . . . I want . . .
