You wake up one morning, you look around, eyes look around, the mind alert would be absent, do not think that makes you feel or perhaps mask the pain. The spiritual search lets you down, then returns, overwhelms you, surprises you, body and soul are shaken. Then mark the temptations of the time and the sound is not easy to spit on their leap ... It is not easy! believe that he had forged every nuance of your being after rivers of pain, not enough, you have to keep our guard high ... the living breath of breath, the good thoughts go away and only you, you and the tree you care so much, the life that has slipped back but struggling every now and still trying to escape ... love the clarity, intoxicate your senses in poetry and freedom ... "Freedom" ... word huge, difficult to impute if you do not feel "real" to the end, freed prisoners is this ... oxymoron hidden meaning.
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