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I aspire to be delicate. Gently touching souls, healing emotional wounds with words. Bringing fairness, peace of mind, filling people's life beautiful chaos that feels like order. Where people can roam and be free, love extensivelly, lose pressure. My last memorable friction was when I was asked: Who do you live for, others or yourself? When I stated this for me personally is indeniably intertwined, I received the feedback that this belief would eventually destroy me. It might be, they might be right. I might begin to feel like I am looking at my life through a telescope. Floating somewhere with no end, staring at pointless action in random order. Bring structure they say, make time for yourself they say, it will solve your problems. Maybe I am stubborn but my mind does not feel like a place for structure. I would not even know where to start and I highly doubt it would make me happy, since routine is the thing I dread the most. I would not even know how to do things for myself, if...