One day I brought something home, something not really palpable. It is one of that things that you buy, but you do not see, but you sure feel. And sometimes, feeling is just enough.
I have bought an idea. Nothing really strange, but simple and nice. Just the way I like it and I was very happy at first. But this was when I felt really alone with it, because I could not show anybody, though I could tell, but... then everybody would just have my idea. And that was really bad, because it is mine, I've bought it and I am very jealous about my things. I am not willing to give for free what I paid for.
And after thinking too much about it, I realized that it was not really mine, because some other person had thought it and I just had bought it. Is it right for me to keep this as if it is mine? What merit do I have, since I've only bought it? And does it make me feel really better for having it? Not quite.
Lot of questions have appeared and in this storm of thoughts I've noticed my insatisfaction. Not the insatisfaction caused by the thoughts and worries brought by the idea, but the one that made me buy the idea in first place. And so, there was in some hidden place inside myself a tiny spot of unreasonable life insatisfaction.
This was when I heard something coming from inside. I could not tell that it was right or wrong. It was quite simple although not genial, but it was mine. Not in the sense of possession, but in the sense of identity. Do not take me wrong, cause I won't tell you my ideia. But believe me, even if you could've buy it, it would only make things worse for you.
