was sitting reading on the couch in the living room of my house, does not matter what you read but how I felt. Enjoyed an absolute peace, was quiet and peaceful, nothing bothered me and bothered me ... Suddenly I began to think that everything was an illusion, I could feel I was quiet, but the truth is you can not lie still on a world tour, unless you stop being part of it. And no matter how much people walk away, you just dying to get away from this world. I started to question things so simple, so small and yet so vital. The pictures are useless, important things remain intact within you, regardless of the weather. I felt like time stopped and life was taking new courses. I was rewriting my life, sitting in an armchair black and barefoot. The air changed, changed myself ... And nobody noticed. I was small, almost invisible against the blue and to the whole. A cosmos too big and I too ... too simple, too me. I realized the freedom and chains, I knew I was a prisoner of my freedom. My head was spinning trying to escape from the illusion of life, happiness and of sadness, all are tiny compared with the world, and I choked when I realized that. I realized over time and I knew that sooner or later disappear, and nobody would remember me, and I do not mind because it simply does not exist. Cease to be me, and nothing else would there be for me.
The anguish came over me and I changed. And none of that will.
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