Books always was my obsession till I grew up to step to the world of adults and start to live by my own. The time was starting vanishing from time to time and suddenly the circle of life just became the roller which roll faster and faster from the high of the mountain deep down.
I didn’t notice as I turned 30 and then 31. The last two years were just disappeared as it was nothing, even if in the process of living in that time I thought about the longness of the days when some kind of laziness procrastination was near and tried to fill my mind. I think now that I was distant far from me and in some kind was loosing myself.
You never know, when it will start and end.
You make plans and go to work, sometime even work hard and all your day is just the task to the task with a little breaks on eat and sleep and some homework, just not to be under the dusty and dirty blanket of the reality.
In the past, when I was much more young in heart and wild, to think differently, as an imaginative kid with lot of ideas and projects to realize, I was incredibly creative and very strange for others, but I never thought I need to change. But why, when I grew up, all I think is just that I need to change something, make a difference, start again and improve myself as everyday routine?
What does that really mean? And why and in what kind of new me I need to be turned?
Who she will be?
What she will do?
What she will think, feel and love?
What is really behind all of this self improvement bullshit?
To be continued…