Automatically translated from Basque, translation may contain errors. More information here. Elhuyarren itzultzaile automatikoaren logoa

'Intense'

I never liked warmth. I've never felt comfortable in the middle, in supposedly more comfortable seats. In this indefinite strike of feeling vitality, I've often felt schirole. I assume, to some extent, that there is something that suits the system and the status quo. Let them rejoice, but not too much. That they get angry, but not too angry, that they claim, that they love, that they reflect, that they move, but never too much. Measuring the legitimate scales of feelings like having breakfast Ibuprofen and Lorazepam makes me afraid. Fear, because going into normality requires standing on that scale, and fear, because I am so far from that scale. You, that crazy one that lets you feel so extreme and immoderate.

Many times I've been told that I feel everything I feel as extreme, and other times as something that needs to be changed. When I love it a lot, when I hate it I hate it a lot, when I like something, even if it's the simplest, I like it to the point where I can condition the mood. When I give myself, I give it to give the last sigh, and when I believe in something I would put more than a hand in the fire for that I believe. When something bothered me, or hurts me, I get sick, because anger and sadness eats me inside, and my head, and you know, your body can't hide lies for a long time. I feel all extreme, and I am so among my friends, in the simplest decisions of day to day, in affective sex, in studies, in care, in anger, in grief, when I read news that sparks me deep and militancy.

I think, to some extent, that there is something that suits the system and the status quo. They get angry, but not too much

What moves does not move by itself, it always moves by another force, it always moves. And I wonder: those who live in constant peak, those who raise the flag of those who live in peace and calm when there are noises of war out, how will they move if nothing moves them? Those who have told me that I attach too much importance to things, those who have reproached me that I feel everything too much, are they not closer to anything than life because they are living?

I started this article looking for the word Intense in the neural translator (so we are called those who feel out of the moderate scale, usually women) and the first result has been living in Basque. Justice has seemed poetic to me.

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