Halfway between lucidity and madness.
We are afraid of abandonment, our emotional life is unstable and we face anger, emptiness, anxiety, impulsivity, a distortion of reality and a disruption of our identity. Our evil being manifests itself in the form of completely self-destructive behaviors. We are naked inside and we can't do otherwise. Impulsive and spontaneous, we find it difficult to close it. When we talk, we overflow and then our words drizzle everywhere on the ground. Sometimes, it makes stains and then other times, it's quite abrasive to erase all the wickedness of the world. The majority of us take refuge in the arts when life seems foreign to us. Our language is expression and feeling. We are hypersensitive by nature.
We are "infectious" and contagious, as much in joy as in calvary. The days when I feel floating with Chopin's tunes in my head, I'm 20 and I'm a child. A stranger. I'm them, they are me and we are alone together.
The emptiness is high, heavy, without warning after the gentle levitation of a high. That the hole is filled by all means with various excesses. Drugs, pills, sex, spending on a whim, dangerous driving..
Then it is war to bring out the overflow of sorrow that eats us from within. Then we hurt ourselves, sometimes trying to finish. We are on the edge of the precipice and we laugh in the face of emptiness. The whole world is on the verge of sinking.
After it's lethargy. Only the idea of going out makes us sick. The exuberant monster has already given a show and then it's over. He has watched enough, he is ashamed and wants to hide. And then we wash our sorrows and we reborn. The joy gives birth to us and we pick up our guts. The same process begins again and again.
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