I have written each paragraph in a different day and in a different mood. All of them are real. None is real. Time does not exist. The Universe is as big as you can imagine it. We’re nothing but condensed energy. We’re a fractal instant through the eternal return and doesn’t matter what we do, we’ll always do the same over and over again. All we do is based on fear and laziness and natural needs. Levity is unbearable but weight is way too heavy (“too young to choose it, too old to lose it… and the clock waits so patiently on your song” Bowie). And I say, the tic never reaches the tac. Anxiety… all we can say, all we can do, even fear, everything is anxiety… (And don’t forget to breathe). STOP. But don’t you ever dare to stop. Change, but not too much. Search, but don’t let anyone find you. Run away. Create, but keep it to yourself. Recreate yourself, conspire against you, break through yourself, and invent yourself. Involucrate your own with you, deeper, face your own worst sides and laugh out loud on your miseries and everything you’ve never liked about yourself (we all know that real life is inside [ …] meet me half way, is not that long, and maybe we’ll find that we’re not alone, SUMO). Cry and enjoy your crying, smile to your miseries, imagine a new world, a new life, a new self, and live it, make it real.