Sometimes we go back to our first love. We go back to the first person who understood us, once. For sure he would understand us at anytime. We go back to talk, to express ourself, to take the time back by killing the coherence. We go back to ourself, our being, in our subconscient.
It is interesting the fact that this form of narcism comes when we are alone, when we are not supported somewhere. This way we can object every simple voice, every axiom, every theorem that approves the existence of coincidence. Nothing is a coincidence. Nothing happens from nothing. The provocation that we do to the world and to the concept of life brings the solitude, and the solitude brings the need to talk to ourselves. Everything takes us to our being. Every thing returns to where it started, in its centre.
Talking to yourself is known as insanity. People call this kind of conversations insanity. But, aren't people the one who talk to themselves. So everyone in this world is insane. The insanity is part of our being.
Talking to yourself is kind of scary and creepy. You understand new things for yourself under the influence of external factors in your thoughts, your analysis and the actions. Getting to know someone who lives inside you, whom you thought as a obeyed sub-being. Someone who is now trying to take the curve of your reality. To create someone else.
This thing written above leads us to a derivate to this conversation: The danger. It is so dangerous getting lost in your subconscient, in the place where even your superficial thought can sink you.
Talking to yourself also leads towards the discovery. The discovery of passages from the future. So the future is located in our depth. Maybe a little effort would bring in front of our eyes our motif of existence.
