I bet everyone would complete this sentence in a thousand different ways, for indecision, for un'abbaglio momentary dream for a "hit and run" that each of us have aspirations, ideas of wanting to achieve, something in the drawer to pull out ; that all would be ready to fill their wish list, putting them in order of preference, such as letters to Santa Claus ... and I am convinced that every human being, more or less explicitly does not want to be happy, his own way ... Happiness sì.E 'her ultimate goal of' humanitas , that they were seeking when we begin to feel the presence of a reasoning, one that forces us to a sad existence and suffering, which it wears out the meat and bones, which leads us to wander anywhere in search of relief, a glance ... It 's the feeling of happiness that agognamo, like vultures on a corpse, we want the smile, the twinkle in her eye, the desire to do, give us the strength to face each new day, unafraid to tackle any challenge, to look to the future ... we want that "thing" that makes us sing in the shower, it makes us laugh all fucked up, it makes us play hopscotch in the street ... But is there really? there really such a spell that makes us appreciate even the smallest joy in life that makes us believe and hope, we can be content, to enjoy what we have leads us to heaven every moment to thank our fortunes do not ??... I identify with most: in the past I would not hesitate to shout my yes, to convince even the most skeptical that happiness is everywhere ... Right now I can hardly believe it myself. I know it's time, that time will remedy every sentence ... the fact is that I master all these days ... and ... I can not lie to others and myself by saying "I'm fine" what the fuck it means to feel good? I fall asleep for a while, and be woken up when everything will be alright ... I swear every time I look in the mirror, because I have everything ... and I have nothing ... What am I missing I do not know where to find it .. . or maybe I'm setting myself up the courage to seek ... The air chokes me, I can not resist no more ... I can imagine my future, nor to rejoice really something .. every stolen my smile is fake ... I feel full of tears, each with its own because, the sun now and seem to keep me company ... I come out a bit, I stop to think ... but when I'm alone this crap hold me back, my hair gets stuck in like a bat, and neither my hands nor my cry it away ... I could keep busy, maybe do something for others but I fear more and hurt them, to spread my pain ...
All I want is ... maybe I just want something with which to defend myself ....
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