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The life is only sadness and insult. Every day I have to lead a fight for my own survival. I have neither house nor food. I can count only on my own person. I have neither mother nor father, neither brother nor sister I am a solitary person who cannot rely any more on persons. I have no identity I am only a simple busy shade. I spent all my life to be helped, but has me tone to help I to try to find straights and narrows who would lead me to a better life. No! We simply let me there alone starve, of thirst and cold. My life was only lie and sadness, but I wish that you will figth up to the end to have a life which is worth there and to leave never anybody I said well nobody you treat as a disabled person.
