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The hole.

“I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in the same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out.

I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in. It's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.

walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.

I walk down another street.”


Portia Nelson,
There's a Hole in My Sidewalk: The Romance of Self-Discovery   



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2 commenti

  1. Buchi, buchi, buchi... ricordo quel tuo post di qualche tempo fa, di buchi da tappare, grovigli e schifezze che prendevano vita se lasciate a fermentare dentro... ma anche di farfalle che ne uscivano come dal bozzolo della loro crisalide! O forse sono stata io a ricamarci su?

    RispondiElimina
    Risposte
    1. No no, è esattamente a quello che stavo pensando! Grazie!!!

      Elimina

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