.. I used to make long
speeches to you after you left. I used to talk to you all the time, even
though I was alone. I walked around for months talking to you. Now I
don't know what to say. It was easier when I just imagined you. I even
imagined you talking back to me. We'd have long conversations, the two
of us. It was almost like you were there. I could hear you, I could see
you, smell you. I could hear your voice. Sometimes your voice would wake me up. It would wake me up in the middle of the night, just like you were in the room with me.
Then... it slowly faded. I couldn't picture you anymore. I tried to
talk out loud to you like I used to, but there was nothing there. I
couldn't hear you. Then... I just gave it up. Everything stopped. You
just... disappeared. And now I'm working here. I hear your voice all the
time. Every man has your voice.
Paris, Texas de Wim Wenders (1984)

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