Hello people worldwide. It is a brand new day and it is still dark here. In the last few days, some specific things have been bothering me a little. Actually, not so specific things. I don't know why I feel so uncomfortable maybe it is what the narrator of Notes from Underground called the excess of consciousness that men go through sometimes. In some cases, I wish I could live my life without thinking so much about what I should be, where I should be now, doing this or that. The subject is always the same, right?
The fact is I'm trying (I don't remember since when) to stop suffering for foolish things. I won't hurt myself with troubles that are not mine. Few years ago, maybe three years, whatever, I heard some good words (I won't mention here where) that made me feel really better about my life. But now, it is like a disease. It comes and goes. I can't say I'm unhappy now... it would be stupid!
The only thing that matters is to keep a place for the real self. The real you. If this is the only space I've found to do this... great. It is what it is. My attic.