Far from huge social themes, extra complex analysis, or deep personal revelations, I thought today I should just share one of those tiny, tiny event that pave my days.
This morning, like any other work day, I left at 7h15, and made my 20 minutes stroll to the train station. I have been doing that for 8 months now. So I know the way to get there (and, mind you I knew the way before that because I already lived there, and had to make the same trip down the train station).
I like my morning stroll. I could easily get a bus to bring me to the station, but I rather prefer walking there. My itinerary goes thru really calm parts of town, so at this hour I am the only one walking in the streets, and it’s soothing, I can observe the streets, or more usually wander in my mind.
Well this morning, I was so into my own little world that, as I came across the long stairs I need to climb down, I actually continued forward for another 100 meters. Only then did I register I was on the wrong path, and turned around to get on tracks.
Nothing extraordinary, barely worth mentioning really. Who never missed its street in a moment of inattention? (Though it must still be less common while walking than while driving…)
BUT, the thing is, I KNEW I was missing my corner… Just took me 100m to accept that I had to go back
Here’s exactly what happened:
I am walking, thinking of a woman resurrecting from her ashes, like a Phoenix, and finally coming to terms with her long misunderstood powers (don’t ask, just accept I have strange thoughts sometimes…)
I see the stairs, I TURN MY HEAD and actually identify them. At that moment, it is very clear in my mind that I should turn. Yet, I continue forward, absorbed by the scene playing in my head. A little farther I think over the images filling my head “did you just passed the stairs? I think you did…” Only then do I stop, make my way back and get down the stairs, while continuing with my Phoenix lady story in the background… A quite typical morning for me indeed!





It’s time for me to post about something that I think even professionals are underestimating. There is little reference about “the fear of going crazy” for schizoids. And yet it is of capital importance, at least for me, I’ll explain why…

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