What a Mess

My life is a mess that I need to put together the pieces scattered everywhere. For example, there are specific events that have occurred somewhere within a margin of time and space that I never forget.

I know that I have been in French Guyanne before or after the fall of the Stroessner’s regime in Paraguay and that I have seen with my own eyes the launch of one of the Ariane rockets from Kourou. I know that I have arrived here in a fragile boat from Oiapoque. The small Brazilian community on the banks of the river of the same name, is the base for illegal immigrants where the coyotes making money in smuggling people who wish to enter in the French territory.

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