Sometimes I see someone on the mirror. Then I see like it’s me. Immediately, I reason out that it’s my brain showing me what I would like to see. But then I wonder who I am. Who am I?
What I feel, I can touch. When I feel, it appears real. How I feel is visible. Am tormented by the imagination of me being owned by my own fears and thoughts. Can I be a captive to the same thing I try to free?
Power without virtual is weakness. Virtual without purpose is black magic. There are three kinds of people; the immovable, the movable, and the moving. The immovable are resistant to change. The movable re willing to change, but never do. The “moving” are those that get things done. Have enough of the moving, and that’s a movement. A movement results into a revolution. What am I?