____________> fragments II <____________________

When I don't know where I have kept an important piece of paper and the search proves to be useless, I ask myself: if I were me and I had an important piece of paper to keep, which place would I choose? Sometimes it works. But many times I am so pressured by the phrase "if I were me", that the search for the role becomes secondary, and I start to think, better say FEEL.

And I don't feel well. Try it: if you were you, what would you be like and what would you do? An embarrassment is immediately felt: the lie with which we have accommodated ourselves has just been displaced from the place where it was installed. However, I read biographies of people who suddenly became themselves and completely changed their lives.

I think that if I were really me, friends wouldn't greet me on the street, because even my appearance would have changed. As? I don't know.

Half of the things I would do if I were me, I can't tell my readers, today I feel like the rebel, I think, for example, that for some reason I would end up in jail. for I would rob all the rich, and give the poor a fortune, And if it were, I would give all that is mine, and trust the future to the future.

"If I were me" seems to represent our greatest danger of living, it seems like a new entry into the unknown.

However, I have the intuition that, after the first supposed madness of the party that would be, we would finally have the experience of the world. I know well, we would finally experience the pain of the whole world. And our pain is the one we learn not to feel. But we would also sometimes be taken by an ecstasy of pure and legitimate joy that I can hardly guess. No, I think I'm already guessing in a way, because I felt myself smiling and I also felt a kind of shyness that one has in front of something that is very big, I changed the name of a person who didn't love me for love a million times, and I said eight hundred more I love you, I'm disgusted with love

the truth is that it was so much love that it was pure spirit".

Madness is next to the cruelest wisdom.

I swallow the madness because it calmly hallucinates me.

"Right behind the thought I have a musical background"

"Listen: I let you be, let me be then"

"Do you know what I really want?! Never lose sensitivity, even if sometimes it scratches my soul a little. Because without it I couldn't feel myself..."

"I woke up in anger. No, no, the world doesn't please me. Most people are dead and don't know it, or they're alive with charlatanism. And love, instead of giving, demands. And those who love us want us to be something they need. Lying is remorseful. And not lying is a gift the world doesn't deserve..."

"I felt like crying but luckily I didn't, because when I cry I feel so comforted..."

"For now, I'm making up your presence."

Oh, and to say that this will end, that by itself it cannot last. No, she is not referring to the fire, she is referring to what she feels. What I feel is a guest never lasts, it cannot stay, what I feel always ends, and may never return. Then I get mad because I know I'll never feel it again and that fire consumes him, and the sweet fire burns, until the flames are extinguished. So, she who knows that everything will end,