What is important?
difficult question, terribly.
Right now, it seems to me that my dreams and my fears are spontaneous changes in my thinking. I'm not I choose my desires, not anymore.
Why am I doing this? I did not care that much, and now I feel a sense of duty inexplicable, inextricable.
What if I do not get the best in something that is not important to me? I believe nothing.
And then, if not reach the maximum, however I will have good results. So why bother? Why spend your days thinking about how to achieve a goal that is not mine?
Enough. I recover in hand and began to live for me, the real me that for some 'seems to be abandoning.
will resume play my piano, I'll start to sing, I will try my work, I will read good books, maybe I'll write my own, passengers and swim a bit, 'paint a pretty picture that I always wanted to do, talk to people, I fall in love still, I love the sky.
This is me and I want to return to me, because it is too long that I avoidance.
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