.
disturbed people
bad thing, dependence
They are sitting in a circle, have bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair, wearing clothes a little 'analysis, speak in a low voice - when they speak - they looked sad and confused, their thoughts are all tangled. Result
a bit 'before you approach them.
E 'dependence, always her.
me screaming to get back outside, to run away from that place, to abandon the therapy before it even begins. I do not want to hear it, I do not want to listen more, made me suffer too, have reached the bottom, is the despair that dragged me there and is the despair that helps me to stay.
Shooting a deep breath, close my eyes and uncertain step, just stumbled on the most beautiful, reach their circle. Someone whispered, "here's another one", thinking that I do not feel it, someone else smiles at me with a smile and dirt away and I feel deeply uncomfortable.
what is probably the facilitator came towards me with a chair, "hold," he says, "sit well, you guys make room for Daniel, your name is not Daniel?"
"Yes," I say softly, almost ashamed, and I do not know why either.
"Boys greet Daniel"
"Hello Daniel" I meet all together.
"Our group is improving at every meeting," gloats satisfied with the facilitator. "A sign that the therapy works and that the addiction can be overcome."
all listen with great attention, with too much attention to his words.
"But we continue our session and let Daniel environments. Only two words to explain what happens: This here (points to the gathering with his hand) is the circle of life, everyone is part of it has an obligation to be honest. No one ever will check the veracity of what is said inside the circle, but it makes no sense to lie, the dependence is motivated by the lies, it seems trivial, but for many it is not and is literally the first thing to learn. Inside the circle of life turns everyone can relate their experiences to share with everyone else. No one has to judge within the circle of life, this is the second rule, and should not judge because no one can judge anyone.
What's the Circle of Life? I'll probably be wondering, the answer is obvious: You can walk, to move forward. Although it may seem incredible, the Circle of Life has the power to calm the demons that addiction creates. So far so clear? "
I feel a score of eyes on me, I have a moment of mind local (no lies, no judgments, ok) and then say," yes. " The facilitator
apparently satisfied by the response, sits down and says with a firm voice: "Well! So keep ... it was Jack's turn."
Jack is a bearded man, dressed like a freak, with glasses and a pretty nice pile of books that stand under its own pretentious chair. As soon as you feel called, jumps up, looking around a bit 'dazed. Immediately recognize the signs of addiction in his gestures. But seemingly harmless gestures that reveal those who have eyes and experience to recognize a long love-hate relationship with addiction.
"Hello everyone, I'm Jack and I am a dreamer."
"Hello Jack, come on, tell us your experience, will respond all'unisono gli altri Sognatori Anonimi. Continuo a sentirmi a disagio.
"Sono settimane che non riesco a tornare alla realtà, è come se fosse evaporata da me, lasciandomi inerte".
"Lascia perdere le metafore Jack", suggerisce il facilitatore, "non sono che strumenti della Dipendenza per tenerti legato a lei. Devi imparare ad essere oggettivo".
"Ma come si fa? Ogni cosa che guardo mi rimanda a qualcos'altro, è come se il mondo fosse pieno di segni che rimandano ad altri segni che rimandano ad altri segni e così all'infinito. Una fitta selva di significati e significanti nel quale adoro muovermi".
"Ti ho detto di lasciare perdere le metafore Jack. Sii oggettivo, la realtà è oggettiva, il mondo Poetry is not prose, always remember this: the world is prose! The dreams change reality, make us slaves of their complicated plots, making messed up. But we are stronger than them, right guys? "
" Yes, "I reply in unison even though all their voices are uncertain.
" From the start again, "says softened the facilitator," tries to tell us about new you, no metaphors this time. "
Jack has the look down, it is clear that costs so much about, yet talk about." My life is hell. All around me work, produce, have children, buy things and are happy. I can not do any of this, I can not even get a coffee the bar without imagining the endless textures that hide customers' lives and then start trying to figure out what their mutual relations, they do outside the bar, who you know, who love, who hate each other. Only those that slowly my stories become more real than reality and the reality begins to seem more and more trivial and nonsensical. "
" Do not offend the fact, Jack. You live the reality, not dreams. Dreams are useless, dreams are dangerous, they do stupid dreams, dreams are addictive, dreams are the worst thing we could invent to destroy us all. I've seen many like you, Jack, get lost. As your dreams take possession of them are transformed. Before starting not to care about most of their lives, they become unproductive, work little and badly, then begin to think about changing reality, as if reality could be changed and is not, by contrast, already given, a pure objective fact, the real problem is that at this point will always find someone who favors them, which comes in around him as well and this is dangerous: the revolutions, large bumps society, art is born from this and we know what are all these things, right boys? "
" Stuff from debauched ", this time they say it in angrily.
" Exactly: just stuff debauched, by people who like to be jacking off rather than laid. We see them every day, on street corners with those fucking eyes lost in the sky, with hideous smiles. Smiling sucks! Damages the skin, makes it similar to apes, always implies a disrespect for the sadness of others and what they do? They smile. But there we FUCK their smiles, we do not need to smile, is enough for us to be happy. And you know what happiness is, Jack? "
" What? "Asks Jack dismay. It 'tried, tested a lot.
" Happiness is having goals and achieving them, fuck everything else. Happiness is doing things the right way so that nobody has to say, that no one can ever say: you were wrong. Because dreaming is wrong, guys, and I assure you we suffer, we suffer like dogs. "
" I first dreamed of every day. "It 'a very tall girl. Her curls fall on the face, making it quite dreamy." I dreamed of travel, the places I dreamed that I saw, I dreamed people that I know, I dreamed of the things I learned. And then you know how did it go? I visited places that were different than I dreamed of and now can not remember the real places, but places soiled by disgusting all those dreams. "
" I dreamed of a girl, but this did not love me. If I had been healthy, if I had not known the bonds of addiction, I never suffered so much, why is the most ferocious of the world to love someone who loves other '. It is an old man, his body bears the marks of suffering a prolonged and profoundly unjust.
"Easy boys, calm, Jack was talking, let him finish. There is time and space for everyone. "
I find myself muttering:" Look in the middle of hell, all hell is not and give him time and space. "All they stop suddenly, frightened at the sound of those words .
The facilitator is directed toward me, you put in front of me and started to yell "Bullshit! Only shit! Boy do not fuck yourself: REALITY 'IS NOT' HELL! DREAMS ARE HELL! The dreams devour! Store them right on the head! "
swallow floor, face flushed with anger of the facilitator I tremble. He understands that he exaggerated, he swallows, he turns to Jack: "Go ahead Jack."
Jack, meanwhile, is sitting back, he murmured in a low voice: "Yesterday I dreamed about yesterday ..." and then bursts into tears.
The girl with curly blacks hugs him, he continues to cry. There is an atmosphere of general commotion, even in a broken voice, the facilitator tries to comfort Jack, as if it were possible consular someone, "Come on boy, is running out, together we can win it, the addiction."
All those present are visibly shaken. They try to hide their anxiety talking about:
"Damn dreams, while still haunts us?"
"Who made us so why not we can not dream?"
"When will it all end? When? When?"
"I also wanted to see, brother. I feel you near." The facilitator
let everyone sfoghino, then when the voices fade, with few glances restore calm in the circle of life.
"What now?" asked Jack, after a while '.
"Now we hear what he has to tell Daniel," replied the facilitator.
"Yeah, Daniel, why are you here? What is your experience? What's your story?" He says. We listen to you. We always listen. "
a bit 'before you approach them.
E 'dependence, always her.
me screaming to get back outside, to run away from that place, to abandon the therapy before it even begins. I do not want to hear it, I do not want to listen more, made me suffer too, have reached the bottom, is the despair that dragged me there and is the despair that helps me to stay.
Shooting a deep breath, close my eyes and uncertain step, just stumbled on the most beautiful, reach their circle. Someone whispered, "here's another one", thinking that I do not feel it, someone else smiles at me with a smile and dirt away and I feel deeply uncomfortable.
what is probably the facilitator came towards me with a chair, "hold," he says, "sit well, you guys make room for Daniel, your name is not Daniel?"
"Yes," I say softly, almost ashamed, and I do not know why either.
"Boys greet Daniel"
"Hello Daniel" I meet all together.
"Our group is improving at every meeting," gloats satisfied with the facilitator. "A sign that the therapy works and that the addiction can be overcome."
all listen with great attention, with too much attention to his words.
"But we continue our session and let Daniel environments. Only two words to explain what happens: This here (points to the gathering with his hand) is the circle of life, everyone is part of it has an obligation to be honest. No one ever will check the veracity of what is said inside the circle, but it makes no sense to lie, the dependence is motivated by the lies, it seems trivial, but for many it is not and is literally the first thing to learn. Inside the circle of life turns everyone can relate their experiences to share with everyone else. No one has to judge within the circle of life, this is the second rule, and should not judge because no one can judge anyone.
What's the Circle of Life? I'll probably be wondering, the answer is obvious: You can walk, to move forward. Although it may seem incredible, the Circle of Life has the power to calm the demons that addiction creates. So far so clear? "
I feel a score of eyes on me, I have a moment of mind local (no lies, no judgments, ok) and then say," yes. " The facilitator
apparently satisfied by the response, sits down and says with a firm voice: "Well! So keep ... it was Jack's turn."
Jack is a bearded man, dressed like a freak, with glasses and a pretty nice pile of books that stand under its own pretentious chair. As soon as you feel called, jumps up, looking around a bit 'dazed. Immediately recognize the signs of addiction in his gestures. But seemingly harmless gestures that reveal those who have eyes and experience to recognize a long love-hate relationship with addiction.
"Hello everyone, I'm Jack and I am a dreamer."
"Hello Jack, come on, tell us your experience, will respond all'unisono gli altri Sognatori Anonimi. Continuo a sentirmi a disagio.
"Sono settimane che non riesco a tornare alla realtà, è come se fosse evaporata da me, lasciandomi inerte".
"Lascia perdere le metafore Jack", suggerisce il facilitatore, "non sono che strumenti della Dipendenza per tenerti legato a lei. Devi imparare ad essere oggettivo".
"Ma come si fa? Ogni cosa che guardo mi rimanda a qualcos'altro, è come se il mondo fosse pieno di segni che rimandano ad altri segni che rimandano ad altri segni e così all'infinito. Una fitta selva di significati e significanti nel quale adoro muovermi".
"Ti ho detto di lasciare perdere le metafore Jack. Sii oggettivo, la realtà è oggettiva, il mondo Poetry is not prose, always remember this: the world is prose! The dreams change reality, make us slaves of their complicated plots, making messed up. But we are stronger than them, right guys? "
" Yes, "I reply in unison even though all their voices are uncertain.
" From the start again, "says softened the facilitator," tries to tell us about new you, no metaphors this time. "
Jack has the look down, it is clear that costs so much about, yet talk about." My life is hell. All around me work, produce, have children, buy things and are happy. I can not do any of this, I can not even get a coffee the bar without imagining the endless textures that hide customers' lives and then start trying to figure out what their mutual relations, they do outside the bar, who you know, who love, who hate each other. Only those that slowly my stories become more real than reality and the reality begins to seem more and more trivial and nonsensical. "
" Do not offend the fact, Jack. You live the reality, not dreams. Dreams are useless, dreams are dangerous, they do stupid dreams, dreams are addictive, dreams are the worst thing we could invent to destroy us all. I've seen many like you, Jack, get lost. As your dreams take possession of them are transformed. Before starting not to care about most of their lives, they become unproductive, work little and badly, then begin to think about changing reality, as if reality could be changed and is not, by contrast, already given, a pure objective fact, the real problem is that at this point will always find someone who favors them, which comes in around him as well and this is dangerous: the revolutions, large bumps society, art is born from this and we know what are all these things, right boys? "
" Stuff from debauched ", this time they say it in angrily.
" Exactly: just stuff debauched, by people who like to be jacking off rather than laid. We see them every day, on street corners with those fucking eyes lost in the sky, with hideous smiles. Smiling sucks! Damages the skin, makes it similar to apes, always implies a disrespect for the sadness of others and what they do? They smile. But there we FUCK their smiles, we do not need to smile, is enough for us to be happy. And you know what happiness is, Jack? "
" What? "Asks Jack dismay. It 'tried, tested a lot.
" Happiness is having goals and achieving them, fuck everything else. Happiness is doing things the right way so that nobody has to say, that no one can ever say: you were wrong. Because dreaming is wrong, guys, and I assure you we suffer, we suffer like dogs. "
" I first dreamed of every day. "It 'a very tall girl. Her curls fall on the face, making it quite dreamy." I dreamed of travel, the places I dreamed that I saw, I dreamed people that I know, I dreamed of the things I learned. And then you know how did it go? I visited places that were different than I dreamed of and now can not remember the real places, but places soiled by disgusting all those dreams. "
" I dreamed of a girl, but this did not love me. If I had been healthy, if I had not known the bonds of addiction, I never suffered so much, why is the most ferocious of the world to love someone who loves other '. It is an old man, his body bears the marks of suffering a prolonged and profoundly unjust.
"Easy boys, calm, Jack was talking, let him finish. There is time and space for everyone. "
I find myself muttering:" Look in the middle of hell, all hell is not and give him time and space. "All they stop suddenly, frightened at the sound of those words .
The facilitator is directed toward me, you put in front of me and started to yell "Bullshit! Only shit! Boy do not fuck yourself: REALITY 'IS NOT' HELL! DREAMS ARE HELL! The dreams devour! Store them right on the head! "
swallow floor, face flushed with anger of the facilitator I tremble. He understands that he exaggerated, he swallows, he turns to Jack: "Go ahead Jack."
Jack, meanwhile, is sitting back, he murmured in a low voice: "Yesterday I dreamed about yesterday ..." and then bursts into tears.
The girl with curly blacks hugs him, he continues to cry. There is an atmosphere of general commotion, even in a broken voice, the facilitator tries to comfort Jack, as if it were possible consular someone, "Come on boy, is running out, together we can win it, the addiction."
All those present are visibly shaken. They try to hide their anxiety talking about:
"Damn dreams, while still haunts us?"
"Who made us so why not we can not dream?"
"When will it all end? When? When?"
"I also wanted to see, brother. I feel you near." The facilitator
let everyone sfoghino, then when the voices fade, with few glances restore calm in the circle of life.
"What now?" asked Jack, after a while '.
"Now we hear what he has to tell Daniel," replied the facilitator.
"Yeah, Daniel, why are you here? What is your experience? What's your story?" He says. We listen to you. We always listen. "
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