I feel like a risk-maniac on relapse sometimes, except that risk to me is pushing the limits of proper interpersonal behavior. I’m just fed up with “what you should do/what you should be like”. I stick to the common sense until it ceases to pleasure my cognitive senses.

If I were a feeling

… I would be called restlessness… What would you be, if you’d be a feeling?

I am very fluid in my behavior. I’m either calm and serene, like a whispering mountain spring… either alert, vivacious and sometimes chaotic, like a deluge in a rainy day…

Being myself needs to obey the laws of nature. That means I must be… mostly unknown and mysterious to myself, though anybody may claim that they know me and explain me very well. I must evolve, I must die and be born again. I must be wild and still easy to be tamed by anybody who is strong enough to take care of me for some time and then let me go.

…