This evening I decided to make an exception to the rule. The reading of "Demons" is moving with some difficulty, but that is what I want to talk.
so far I've been on the phone with Fedora. We talked about many things, work, the urgent present and the nebulous future. Fedora and I are on the same wavelength (over 25 years ...) and even now we have the same feeling of a tight left empty-handed.
Once was enough for me to have a passion, cultivate and live on those moments of bliss that makes you dream that everything is possible, feasible, but now I confess that I take a huge effort to get back to that carefree.
At 15 is quite possible, 20 years, the world is at your feet, a 30 ...
Thirty years early to make a first summary. Mine are rather bleak in the sense that I care about ...
work there, but it's still hard as he can only be to have a little business on his own, never mind not disengage and 8 out of 10 times you wonder who did that to you. You make money in two to four times to even see because you are forced to reinvest. Smile at people every day even if in your heart secretly want them to pieces with the knife for the purpose. My
outlet? But of course, my passions!
Can you help?
...
Ni.
Once it was different, now I think I also put my passions on a paltry budget. Here, my life as a simple vote in the Forum ...
Yet the court and I am just as severe.
Sometimes I feel that everything is a waste of money, time and energy. In the past I did not care, but now I feel it is time to pick up some fruit, but fruit is not any. I dreamed of gathering a basket of juicy peaches and instead I find myself with a sprig of dried currants (which is also a bit harsh-_-).
I realize that is a bit 'sorry for him, but cabbage, I never did for 30 years, I can whine for once?! But yes, concedetemelo ... then I promise that I put on a Cerottini wound and I get up as usual.
yet ... and yet ... I feel that deep down something good there. Perhaps my feeling will only exclusive I'll never have the opportunity to share with anyone, but when I enter into my world and invent my own stories, everything seems better. My mind revolves in a different orbit and live lives that otherwise would not live.
Maybe I'm not able to do anything, maybe I do not have a true vocation for something, but I'm sure you can always rely on my imagination. Dear Michael Ende can rest assured that with me and Fedora his fantasy will never cease to exist.
Lever
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