Iritis And What Can I Do Sabout It

Maybe before I die I'll learn to embrace who I love.
to give kisses.
to melt.
playing.
Maybe before I die I'll learn that it is better to be hated for what you are, so that it runs the risk of being hated anyway.
Maybe I'll learn to be less accommodating, not to seem detached.
to be as light as a butterfly, let go, to reveal the emotions, to be joyful.
Maybe I'll learn to say what I think without fear of being judged, even if it is nonsense, nonsense that fills the silence, color life. Maybe I'll learn
also not limited to, gifts not only in thought, every time petrified with fear that does not like them. To have thoughts, gestures, glances, smiles. To make unexpected telephone calls.
Maybe before I die I will learn to be comfortable, not to restrain, not to think of having to be perfect to do something and not keep me out because they are not so perfect.

[.... The life of every man is a way to himself, trying to one route, the hint of a path. No man has ever been entirely his own, yet each tries to become one, who sullenly, some brightly, according to the possibilities. Each brings with it until the end, remnants of his birth, moods and eggshells of a primordial world. Some people never become men, frogs remain, lizards, ants. Some man is above and fish below, but each is a run of nature to man. We all have common origins, the mothers, we all come from the same abyss, but everyone, try and run the depth, tends to his own half. We can understand each other, but each can be interpreted only himself ....]