pick up

The question “What do I do?” guards me from the boredom of doing nothing by presenting various thoughts. They all decorate the lonely being of the disabled for life, and thus the admiration comes in exchange for the mourning for the personal needlessness- helplessness to change anything in my world of the forced to live on charity.

Does it mean that “what do you do?” is the magic word?

I think all of you will agree that the sound of the abracadabra revives the far forgotten romanticism and fires our hearts with the desire to welcome a stranger. This the hearty “What do you do?” puts a spell on us…just have a look at “Modus Vivendi“. It will have nothing in common with the comprehension of the heavy walls of the hospital for the people with psychiatric disorders. Personally I have felt myself as if on the island of love and care for other in the turbulent ocean of the cruel fights for display for to be

Is the above not strange? I think that metamorphosis is worthy pondering deeper. If we named the abracadabra a key, it means there are the wall and the door. What are they?

By the way, what’s Modus Vivendi? Could you explain the meaning of that word?

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