My limits and regrets

Category: /Informative Poetic Prose an Alert/

My limits and regrets

There are times when I don't even understand myself, I do like any tantrum child, I come into conflict with my teenage children, and suddenly I explode.
Perhaps this has to do with my bipolarity, with my emotions, with my passion, which I do not deny to anyone having them.
I know that I am often like the sulfuric acid, strong, volatile, that hurts the ceramic floor, imagine the heart.
But, I am still aware of what I do, and rethink, but not everyone is the same.
Even so, when I expose myself in significant signs forming words, prayers, phrases, texts, I think of the other.
I know that I am also not perfect, and that many people do not accept me the way I am.
But then, I think: "I don't go to church, and those who go, sin more than I do, because where is the love that God taught?"
Yes, I am passionate even in my literature, perhaps I acquired bitterness from those who taught me when I was a child, and throughout my life, many times, my naivete hurts me, and I sum up in pain the great discomforts of life.
Even so, the way out is to recognize that I am not perfect, but I am a daughter, like anyone, of the One who is pure Perfection, and who created us with love.
To all my family members, professional colleagues, my children, God. And to you my reader.
Teka Castro.
São Paulo, January 24, 2020.
Day of the birthday of my cousin Karlinha (Karla Neves).
Peace and good to everybody.


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