New beginnings are an intoxicating thing. Put everything behind us, look ahead, open a new leaf, a new chapter. Like birth, a new life that has not yet become impure, has not yet become soiled in the world. In a new beginning, one can imagine everything, any way open wide, the potential is greater than ever, the innocence and purity are still. So yes, I'm addicted, I admit. It's hard to avoid such habits, but to tell myself that all this belongs to another chapter and now I'll start a new chapter - makes everything more bearable. Perhaps by chance, among all the struggles and attempts at new beginnings, I will succeed in finding myself creating and building a reality that will remain open for a long time, and perhaps I will not have to decide every day to start over and over again. Is there such a reality? A reality of possibilities, of a beginning in every corner that did not come at the expense of the previous one, which does not really have to start over, but to stabilize and develop an existing reality. I want to be here and now, to create myself continuously, not to summarize my life to fall and exist.
To get to it, it will take a process that will take time, and I will have to be patient, I will have to believe in what I did not believe for years.
Myself, to believe in myself, in abilities, in the fading power, in the hidden will.
I knock my head off a wall, go crazy and writhe in pain. To change, also mentally, involves intense pain and a breathless pursuit of breath.