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The swamp of sadness (the endless story)


When my uncle Neto died, I became ill with sadness, as well as when my grandfather Ernesto died, I don't know why I am so sensitive, maybe I was just born like that, sensitive, I care about my loved ones, but not only my loved ones if I don't society itself, in some way that I cannot help myself, I am not indifferent to the pain of others.


I have learned to live with this sensitivity, when I am with other people and they tell me their pain I can feel them as if they were their own, then they tell me more ... Somehow I feel something very beautiful when feeling listened to helps them feel better or with a hope, forgotten people on the streets are infinitely grateful that you listen to them, and if I can feel pain but not suffering, pain is inevitable and natural in difficult moments and is shared through empathy, but suffering is a choice and even though it may feel a lot of pain I do not feel suffering and I do not feel suffering because, finally, I feel free to feel all my emotions, those of happiness and joy and those of sadness, this freedom allows me not to suffer.


However, this time what happens to Afghan women is affecting me more than I thought, I did not think I feel as much pain for this issue as I am feeling, and the pain of Afghan women, which is my pain, was expressed by writing, and by Naturally, almost as a coincidence, some loved ones have given me more information about what really happens in Afghanistan, the origin of the problem, there are also loved ones who have cried with me, crying cleanses the soul ...


I am fighting not to die drowned in the swamp of sadness (of the endless story) I really believe that I will survive this test, I am very strong personally, but this pain is not personal, it is social, that is why I write to you about the problem, in WhatsApp or around here, why do I think that we all have love and we can share our pain, by sharing pain there is also love, not only by sharing joys ... I love you, I love you infinitely and you help me not to die in it swamp of sadness because of this very difficult subject with women in Afghanistan, I love them and wish I had the power to stop the Taliban and stop them from mistreating Afghan women, but all I can do is write like any mortal human with limitations, since I do not have great resources to help them in any other way, the Mexican government is already helping them and that for me represents a ray of hope.


I'm sorry, I don't know why I was born so sensitive, I really don't know why


I love them to infinity



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