Lately I rediscover myself, in fact they are traveling in me looking for the real me. Very stupid some ways, they are 29 years old who live with me and I still do not know? Boh. A rhetorical question I can not answer this. In fact, since I go out with me like they were born with a person other than me (here in the madness begins, or perhaps health) I know. In fact, I recognize and I know for a fact that for some reason I had lost. Lost where? Boh. Here's another tough question. I think lost in the world, as Morgan said, or perhaps lost as Alice in me that I like more as an image. And the more I advance in recognizing known to have always the same, that of the newspaper class, one of the performances, the "Stealing Beauty", the journal wrote in with great "punk is not dead" and smaller brackets "and I am really alive." Years have passed but if I look back and analyze, perhaps rimurgino, I do not remember much about the past and memories are all beautiful, serene. And where was that other then me trying to be different from who knows who to please herself? Boh. Maybe in the other dimension, beyond the mirror, lost in the maze or some other better metaphor. Who asks me who you are? I say "are clearly". And what do you want to be? "Exactly."
and leaves the field open for the opponents.
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