”Anthony is me. Wesley is the unknown. In one of my brain quakes I had to dance with the most dangerous one.”
So it looks like a card… I turn it and it says: ‘Hello Antonio, you have been invited to dance with the most dangerous butterfly in the world; first of April this year. Visit us at the Factory0110 located in Madrettor. You get to have fifty grand from us if you survive. Be there just before 22:22.’
‘Is that thing something like a light saber?’ I ask my lady while feeling a bit afraid. ‘Is that what I have to dance to the butterfly with?’ ‘I guess so; but it’s not transparent, it doesn’t release heat and it’s also not sharp. Maybe you’re supposed to hit the butterfly with it and knock it into death.’ she responds.The mysterious hat
…or something like this:
There are also things happening in the world that; might be far away; but do still impact me. I try to not follow the news so much and that makes it easier.
47•. .•I must feel good myself to make my lady, or family members happy with me. I must feel fine before I can do my household jobs, perform well at my job and take work out of people’s hands.•. Not watching the news so much helps with that.
I was always trying to fit in ”modern society” but ever since I’ve read a quote that stated ‘When you are born in a world you do not fit in, you are there to make a new one’ I stopped trying and I just followed some steps in order for me to feel good most of the time. This made it not only easier to fit in, it also made me more relaxed and a better man in general.
48•. .•I realized that every small good thing I do for somebody else – or even for myself – will make this world a better one and thus new.•.
The alarm rings, we wake up and look each other right into the irises of our eyes. We feel this strong and deep connection that is brought to us by a powerful force and theory called ”stimulation of empathy”. It’s silent for about two minutes and the empathy, the one that activates altruism, does cause ”helping behavior” from both sides – having electrical energy floating in the air between us two – and sets us both up with a feeling compacted by a fear to lose one another, which thrives to words after I saw tears in lady’s left eye. I tell her: ‘I won’t move myself to Madrettor that first of April. We should not go to the Factory0110. You shall not be watching while an insect takes the life of your love. This buttery dancing spectacle is not going to take place.’