The real woman is the goddess who bravely walks on a journey with straight roads and slippery paths. She is aware that life is a wonderful gift, that she has the freedom to embrace in the treasure of the heart the whole beauty of the world. He walks happily on the fragrant flower plain of existence, but he knows that he will also encounter barriers that he must overcome, while he sets as his personal mission to paint with rainbow colors the whole journey.

Endowed with a considerable dose of sensitivity, women are like open books that not everyone can understand, experiencing situations in which they step on the paths of the world wearing smoky glasses on their noses. Some are still waiting for that prince on a white horse or the Cinderella's shoe to get them out of trouble.

We must recognize that, at a certain level the air can be thinned, the woman can get drunk with cold water without going out of print, she is put in a position to taste the cup of luck, but also the glass of poison of life, just to learn that everything is dual. That freedom and censorship are part of the same existential picture, just like truth and falsehood, love and hate, or ying and yang.

In the tumult of each day, the inspiration resembles an intensely ignored soft song, which is why the supreme force of the universe appeals to bullets and its lethal pistol. In this way, life shows us that we are too heavy to carry in our palms, that it is time to stretch out our hands and allow our wings to grow.

At a close glance in the mirror, with the string of colored beads around her neck, the woman notices that she is dressed in a masquerade ball, that she plays as the world sings, that a thick layer of dust has spread over the essence of authenticity and that the right time has come for a switch switch.

The eyes are the guides that take her to a cryptic place, to a meeting with her own self, in an adventure to the inexhaustible source of love and to multiple possibilities. This meeting brings to light streams of bitter tears, regrets and sighs, often lived in a natural loneliness. For the woman rarely knows how to ask, instead, she masterfully plays the role of savior, she offers to exhaustion, because society has been playing with her mind since she had baby teeth and braided tails. That's how he came to believe that everyone's happiness depends on himself, on how he wears a cook's apron or whose heels as a wise businesswoman.

He hid many dreams in the corners of his own soul and it was time to fulfill them, to call on the world clock to make time for himself. For putting yourself first is not proof of selfishness, but of self-esteem.

What does a woman do out of love? He puts himself at the service of others and can easily forget his own mission. He can display a rosy smile as his soul cries, he can put on the garment of limitless sacrifice, until he gets too close to the abyss of life and realizes that he has not followed the path to fulfillment.

Is it too late to be found? The answer is hidden in your soul, make the journey to yourself, get out of the reach of those who point the remote control of their own desires at you and put brick by brick to the life you dream of.

You may wake up with deafening screams, slammed doors, manipulation, but I trust that beyond innate sensitivity hides your boundless power, which is the time to point in the desired direction, to press the accelerator pedal with courage and leave the brakes under the feet of the cowards.