I am like any other human being. I have good and bad in me. The good is very normal: diligent, inventive, persistent, responsible, organized, friendly and a few other aspects I cannot recall.
Probably, the only difference in me is the bad. I not only love the bad, as I consider it the best part of my personality. I love being proud and stubborn. I love being judgmental. I love being right and even being wrong in any judgment. I love the fact that I am sickly focused. I love my emotions. I love my mistrustfulness. I love my intuitiveness. I love the fact that I don’t need but one to feel happy. I love my sadness.
To ignore the bad in me is to ignore myself. It’s dying a little. Even so I am willing to welcome death, just to discover whatever there is to be discovered.