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Cochabamba, Bolivia

Whereas I was walking in the garden I was recalling a story of a madman who claimed to be the only sane in a world of madmen. Upon seeing the birds chirp, from my window I was imagining the riot he made, but one day for my misfortune I discovered that the madman was me, that there grilles in the window, that the bird was cheeping in my head, that the garden is my cell and that sanity is insanity.