Hello, darling. What did you do today? You know what I did? It’s the same as yesterday, the day before yesterday and the days before it. I travel to vanity, where dreams are like the cake, people want me to share them proportionally. This is the kind of place where you can’t have your cake and eat it (too). I just can’t let go. I don’t want to move on as there is no possible way at all. I want to talk to you about thousand things. I want to tell you how I kiss the day in this country. How I smell things differently. How I became a sad man, sometimes bad, but most of the time, sad. A rush of strange affections come while we’re separated by too many things: homelands to many friends, the nations you’re criticising all the time. I don’t blame you, although I know deep down inside you find me guilty. You know I’m not an island, I have to go. Anyway, don’t go crazy. I am still your satellite. I am still made to impress you alone. You are still my flame.