Sometimes you mix all of themselves to the outside world the wrong way, obtaining a compound that will not recognize a paciugo they say in my part of that convoluted games.
's hard to explain with words, but when I'm really good about myself, I feel my whole, being or essence that is, for better or for worse, with strengths and weaknesses, as a house as I take care of that and try to keep in order.
This home has doors and windows through which opened and closed when I go, I leave and I mingle with the world. But not in my house, not letting people choose whether and the extent of my choosing, with the boundaries marked by malaise or fatigue that I feel useless or meaningless.
And if there is no one game alone, playing with the world as a child who has no playmates. I invented the game, because I exist, because my soul and there is no way to give him another.
Then, yes, that's nice when other people play with me, when we love together, we have fun together and mourn together for something that makes sense ...
But I am I, even when they are in relationship with others and live and enjoy these two dimensions of which run parallel and that double the pleasure of being in the world.
Well, do not delegate the sense of me and of my life to others, to anyone, but not malice.
am a whole and if I have nothing to do, I listen to my soul, which is the soul of the world, listen to the silence, I investigate the mystery and often smile at me (and the world).
Sometimes I think I'm a bit 'out! As a balcony, they say here, but I feel so open to life, perhaps as a balcony that juts out from the house and overlooks the world.
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