Book: My personal drama. Page 3

When you revel in your misery, it grows in you, putting down roots, intertwined branches in veins and arteries, depriving the person breaking in nature, destroying everything you had in that past life.

The overabundance of feelings killing feelings. If you eat too many your favorite ice cream, then you can't even look at it, but if you permanently block access to this ice cream, will howl like a wounded animal, trying to get it.

Purebred Arabian horse on the outside, it turned out, on closer examination, ordinary hard-working donkey who wanted a bit to eat, get some sleep and frolic in their pen, not to dash at a gallop over the black Mare through the endless fields of life. I lasted ten months, and then gathered his things.

I quickly came up with his love and she genuinely believed it. Auto-suggestion - great force. He apparently also possessed a rich imagination, and with remarkable speed, our relationship began to develop. We struggled to understand what was happening, but we definitely liked it. When there are two hungry people, they begin to feverishly "to overeat" emotions.

We were both emotional covered with boils from the inside. Every body gave a pulsating pain. At the beginning of the relationship, attempts were made to help each other to soothe, to cure, but then each of us furiously picking at other people's wounds until they bleed. The victim and the aggressor was again in his element, tearing applause. And all this action was watched hungry to show the audience in our area.

People are trying hard to pretend that all is well, somehow afraid to talk about their troubles, worries and bitterness. Don't tell - they seem to be there. If you do not notice, somehow going to sort itself pass. Does not take place. If formed an abscess, it will necessarily burst, as it did not gloss over the tonal resources and not mask it with corporal patch. It is. The reality will not disappoint.

Diligently playing to the audience, home a dropped mask, the robe, showing his true self.

And whether the reality of the Instagram? Users write about a new apartment, but not about the mortgage, trying to post happy family photos, but years of sleeping in separate rooms, broadcast about healthy lifestyles and PP, over eating sandwiches with sausage and mayonnaise, glossy card showing children in fashionable clothes, but do not find time to go out with them, or read a book. On the one hand, sickening to see the hypocrisy, knowing the truth, and the other - who better from the truth? Sometimes it seems to me that most easier to create a parallel, fantasy life than a real change.

Eventually got to the point that people began to fear me. They said that I possess a destructive power, as Lenin on an armored car. Revealing a sharp word of all visible and hidden defects, I called thereby the flow of mud to his side, because this truth nobody likes. Many people live with closed eyes and ears, fearing to look reality in the face. Bare your body for everyone to see now do not be ashamed, but to expose true feelings is unacceptable.

I've become like the old Soviet doll with big blue eyes with plastic eyelashes, which he always says "Mama", if it is tilted from side to side. I was lying on the bed, staring into the void, I have ceased to LIVE, becoming a anatomical guide. Again joined a defense mechanism, blocking all emotions.

Whatever the strong man, or beast, care is needed by all, especially when this strong man is "broken". Need warm hands, gentle touch, soft eyes, silent unity, and protection. To bow before someone that you trust, not shame, only to find "their man" this is probably not for everyone. We make mistakes, experience pain, and then, zastepowane on all the buttons inside, for fear of experiencing it again, often miss something really important. Playing the role, to forget about the simple emotional needs and trying to prove to ourselves that this extra burden.

To live. How many in this word, and only a few truly live. Sometimes it seems to me that around some mannequins. They sleep, go to work, throw yourself in food and alcohol, travel in cars and in crowded buses, looking at me through the dirty glass empty eyes. Thousands of people pass by, and I stand in the street and see before them only the shade, woven from indifference.