I've always had the urge to help tortured souls. Maybe it comes from trying to fix my own through others. I remember that bad moments. I also remember the good ones. I remember the lust with which I used to give myself to some demons. I also remember myself craving to save a life, a horrible life who came into mine. After that, I found some other
soul. But it also needed fixing. I really didn't know that, my inner self told me to hold on to a "normal" circumstance. This character of the novel of my life did very nice things to me... things that had an invisible contract beneath. My soul was being sold without me even knowing it. Every step he would take, I had to take after. Every expected movement should be accomplished. Bye-bye freedom, love of my life.
Now i've risen from the pits of hell, of that cage.
My soul is blooming.
My eyes see further than ever, except for a speck of dust I've been carrying some time in my right eye. It is annoying, uncomfortable, irritating, inconvenient, inquisitive, beautiful, interesting, curious, wide, large, intelligent, ambivalent, unique.
The black ghost pursues me in my thoughts.
The ghost is simply so fitting it's scaring.
It promises intelectual development without even knowing it. A constant game in which it is very difficult for me to win.
24/7 tensed up. ALL tensed up.
Let me share some time, with your persona