All my life I had been looking for something, and everywhere I turned someone tried to tell me what it was. I accepted their answers too, though they were often in contradiction and even self-contradictory. I was naïve. I was looking for myself and asking everyone except myself questions which I, and only I, could answer. It took me a long time and much painful boomeranging of my expectations to achieve a realization everyone else appears to have been born with: that I am nobody but myself.
- Se ha unidoDecember 27, 2013
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Support me with this guy's please I just published "Author " of my story "To Love Again ". https://my.w.tt/RZaIKew5cVVer todas las conversaciones
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