I'm fine. If we stop to consider a defect in my nature, I'm fine. It 's like a tiger FOSE been released. A jungle of unknown smells new, but is instinctively good. Bello is not in the aesthetic sense. Beautiful in the sense of being. So, yeah, I'm fine as it can be a witch of my age. Now I have also an important goal that I try not to lose sight of wonder for every blade of grass that appears before me. The truth is that the truth changes. Yet it is always the same. As a cycle of seasons, I do not know what I mean. I have peace in spite of the traffic. I open the windows in the office because changing things, even when it is cold in the morning was refreshing. And hear the noises that come from the street sconcentra me just enough to remind me of life in its mobile static. E 'possible risk all this? Jeopardize the discovery, wisdom gained, won peace? I think so. And the awareness of the impermanence of everything instead of embarrass me high, as if the end really was not all on my shoulders, inside my responsibility . There is a dark road to get to me. But I have a garden, a garden like that October is not some kind of flower color, or exotic plants from distant countries. But it is nice and there is the scent of wild juniper and sage mixed household. I cared I, who are not never been a botanist, nor Bottani to be honest. There is a wooden bench where I consumed a drink a hot cup loiter in a thick wool sweater, disheveled, without makeup, as I am. A down and enjoy the autumn leaves, the last sun to shine now without heat, to warm my hands before the first snow. Sure, as the round of seasons.
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