Lies are the ancient logs over which my life glides; I just have to grab the ones in the back and put them in front again without stopping. Deep down, I’m a slave to myself. But the day will come when I can’t take it anymore, and on that day the slave will die, not the other woman but the one everybody knows, the one who isn’t me and yet seems openly to live my life. She is a heart in chains. Hearts are born in chains. It’s a mistake to follow your heart while believing in your freedom, because freedom is the domain of lies.
