I cannot have many things. They just do not fit into consciousness. Forgotten, lost, dead weight. And I still can't do much. If I don’t concentrate or delve into it, I can. But if you look closely, attention narrows and expands at the same time, focusing on the object.
If I feel, then I cannot eat, drink, smell anything. Read, watch or listen. If I feel, then I choose. And the further, the more carefully.
Can't have many relationships. A little and deep - yes. I can't go to the top too much. I'm breaking down on it. Something tender in me turns into a hard callus. I can’t be deeply familiar with strangers. So much more needs to be passed together in order to understand how to trust them. Where in their soul are dimples, hollows or secret nooks, and where in mine. I can't do it at the wrong time, with bills, at once, at random or for free. If so, then why?
If I turn on sarcasm, cynicism, insensitivity, patience and the second cosmic speed, then I can easily. Tons, crowds, kilometers, bundles, or even whole countries. Swallow, flip through, march victoriously. The main thing is not to start feeling.
If I am a professional, I play a role, I work according to a scheme, I don’t turn on myself, then I can. I can, but I do not want. I don't want it so much that it turns out, as if I can't.
Open-hearted, capable of change, vulnerable, I notice many natural limitations. Allowing myself to be alive, soft, warm, sensitive, I notice my finitude and vulnerability. The vulnerable is finite, and the one who thinks of himself invulnerable is finite. The sensitive is finite, and the insensitive is also finite.
And if the result is the same, from all that has been proposed and tested, I choose to feel. Why else?