Yes… I live in a beautiful place.

I fought for it! I am in fact fighting every day. Still.

It has not cured my depression or anxiety, has not changed me into a peoples person. No way…

In fact, I am now much more often scared of a human contact.

I am scared of so called civilization.

I prefer woods. If we have to travel, we choose an island, with an empty hotel! LOL

I am an addict. My island made me one. Can not live without waves, sea and all those colors. Changes.


But yes, I live in a beautiful place. But it does not mean that everything is happy, okay, and I am a fucking, jumping and singing since 5 a.m. Who the heck does that shit? Weirdos, right? Oh wait…

I am one.

A special one.


Between the shades, trees, colors… hiding from humanity.

Yup, for a psychiatric I am a perfect example of Asperger, autistic being. For myself I am only me, who in fact, except pain and pain and pain… does not wanna change. World can deal without my presence. I can not deal without creating, overthinking. Without my archeological project, photos and paintings.


For the world yes, I am a poor disabled person. Who sees the world maybe not as it is. Or maybe you all are wrong?

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