Life In A Picture

The same question when it comes to giving shape to a morning thought: "What kind of person am I?" and then, "do I need to be just one kind of person?" and after that comes ""was that just an excuse?"
Because some go jogging in the morning, and some others stay in bed and make love; maybe think of the perfect breakfast in a delightful lazy state, but not me, not today. I'm thinking about this word "kind" and then trying to put these ideas together to bring out what the main point is.

Life in a picture, because when I push myself a little, short phrases of meaning come and this time it was the perfect line. Pictures are a piece of time put on some kind of material, representing just that: frozen time. But life (despite all my efforts) goes beyond frozen stuff, and has more energy than all my students together since 2004. So to express what this post is about, I'll say this: I'm the kind of person who thinks can live in pictures; like that granted innocence of pretending and trying to keep everything on its place. 

But as I said, I don't really think I'm supposed to be just one kind of person (thank God for that); and for that when I turn around in my bed and confront ideas, I see how much I get the ending part of life. It ends, ends, ends... and again, ends, it ends. Because I seek for beginnings but avoid facing endings, like if I could support them all. So for those two kinds of person I just defined this morning, this line: stay more on that aware side of endings, because you can't just carry them all.

P.S.: I really need to stop when I know I'm done.

Lyrics by Florence And The Machine

Happiness / hit her / like a train on a track
Coming towards her / stuck still / no turning back
She hid around corners / and she hid under beds /
She killed it with kisses and from it she fled /
With every bubble she sank with a drink /
And washed it away down the kitchen sink.

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are comin' so you better run

Run fast for your mother; run fast for your father 
Run for your children all your sisters and brothers 
Leave all your love and your longing behind.
You can't carry it with you / if you want to survive

The dog days are over
The dog days are done
Can you hear the horses
'Cos here they come

And I- never wanted
anything from you
everything / you had
And / what was left after that too / Oh!

Happiness / hit her / like a bullet in the back
Struck from /a great height 
By someone /who should have known better / than that

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