I was born an artist, I was a singer. Still small. They took me to a singing school. My name gradually grew, growing to the heights of glory. During my artistic career, I had several loves. They all swore eternal love to me, but they ended up running away with others, leaving me the longing and the pain. One night when I sang Tosca, a young woman in the front row threw me a flower. This young woman later became my legitimate wife. One day, when I sang The Force of Destiny, she ran off with another, leaving me a letter. And in the letter, a goodbye. I could no longer sing. Later, I remembered that she, however, had left me a little piece of herself, my daughter. A tiny meat doll that I had a duty to educate. I went back to singing again, but only for the love of my daughter. I educated her, she became a girl, beautiful. And one night when I sang yet again, The Force of Destiny, God took my daughter never to come back. From then on, I went falling, falling, moving from the theatres of to