Sometimes the legs give way without a reason. Fall without being aware of our weakness. Poor self-awareness? Maybe it has nothing to do, maybe we can not do anything. Try to grasp them, to reconstruct our movement that is melting, with no harmony. We feel the tendons pull hard muscles become listless, our mind cancels all other thoughts that I am not looking for a foothold of luck. Do not want to trudge, we do not like to walk with difficulty in a way in itself uncertain. Think of pirouettes, juggling the facts without flinching, to all persons in agile and nimble dodge obstacles. I envy them, envy them strength, their certainty of execution. From beginning to end, perform their exercise impeccably ... We, however, we must stop, we need to take breath. Our support is tiring, you sfiaccano no apparent reason. We hate what they are, we hate what they can not do for us. They do not know of shame, guilt assails us when we stop. Appendices are lifeless without us, without our consciousness. And that's what hurts the most, knowing that when they falter, it is our ego, our will, to waver. Legs ungrateful, traitorous arms. How many times we ran into what we had at heart, grasped as not to run away, not to give life to what does not belong. Now we cry, the heart beats stronger, he tries to stir, to give us that shot. The threads that hold together what we are, screeching and threatening to break. How can one react to such a thing? How can we overcome what we are? Stop, to strengthen. Starting from scratch, although this will mean to get us through, although this will mean opening the hand to see what's inside. If it's empty, not bad, but it is what will give us the full right to stop and blow it all away ... Colors, smells, words ... all scattered on the ground there, near us, motionless.
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