not poor memory
There are dynamics that affect me.
The reason why I can not and have never managed to give importance to good things, the conquests.
die on heaps of rubbish and defeat, losing time behind useless thoughts, facing situations that made me feel good, and meanwhile I leave aside the achievements, even small ones that really deserve to be considered.
I'm just a bitch sometimes to ignore certain things.
Waste time, invest and lose, do not invest and not lose, we gain and even then I think maybe I've got it all wrong, it would be much easier to sit in the arms of someone or something that was always there, ready for me. Perhaps
the time has come, I have to stop to follow, because a force to be behind someone it is obvious that you do go ahead but only by inertia, in fact alone would not do, you'd be lost.
If you're in front and open the line, regardless of who is behind you that you will continue to move forward really, on your way.
When you open the line you know when it is appropriate to dwell on something, it's just groped, to risk to achieve a goal and that is true but it is not hard to do right. When you follow someone
however, do not care about hard work, you just want to be guided and driven as long as you do you feel secure, then no matter what he decides to make those in front of you, if you stepped on or if you port arm is indifferent, as long as there is and that he or she chooses.
Obama had open arms the day I stopped in the lobby to get information,
he's a dynamic that I do not know how to explain, why a man of middle age, color (this is why I gave Obama's name) is interested in me, what I do, where I come from.
The reason I did it without ulterior motives, now I'm sure.
I met him almost every day, always by chance, in the context of the university.
may be the canteen, classroom study, the road, and always greets me calling him by name, has never forgotten.
Then, usually, it makes me question some of the ritual, without never be intrusive and in fact I gladly answer, brief encounters that last exchange a few words or some impression.
Every time I wonder why, because I see that smile and that mixture of white brotherhood and fatherhood every time he sees me, as if it were really pleased.
Why not do it even with people who are with me, that kind of confidence or sympathy I have inspired him?
What drives him to become interested, even vaguely, to a perfect stranger?
Why can not remember his name?
Obama is a perfect example and the reader is that here it can understand.
