Many parents try to avoid a true relation with their child, because they do not feel up to what the child expects from them. It

Many parents try to avoid a true relation with their child, because they do not feel up to what the child expects from them. It
There is a brutal and pernicious distortion of the representative framework of citizens.The very module by which they apprehend the world is now tampered with.
It is possible to consider what we have been witnessing for two years now from a different angle : Rather than a concerted effort at
The relationships we have with our neighbors can be intense.The similarities between this type of environment and the family environment are striking enough to take
See : The urgency for them has now become clear : Disconnecting people, disconnecting them from their true nature. By imposing, through violent hammer blows
Tu souffles les bourrasques des particules aimantées qui s’infiltrent en mon esprit.Elles me volent au présent, et plaquent mes paysages intérieurs au tableau de la
The contentious status of a relation to the other is, before anything else, a relation to all conflict energies present in the relation we have
How often have I longed for the encounterWith the human being inside of you.On every occasion, I have found nothingBut a battery of tightly knotted
Bringing up a child, means to plant the smells, tastes, savors in the soil of their consciousness.When it will later unfold the fabric of life,
One of the potentially confusing characteristic of our modern ‘Communication’ consists in responding with disconcerting obstinacy just a few degrees next to the question.So much
People who talk a lot, all the time,Tell us about the reason of never-ending logorrhea.To discover it, you need to listen very carefully while they
The boredom generated by those mass movies (those massively produced, targeting the widest possible audience) is not the result of some kind of a sudden
You’re blowing the squalls of magnetic particles,they infiltrate my mind, steal me from the presentthey flatten my inner landscapes to the boardwhere the absence of
Once again, you thunder.The mental squall blowing me away from the present, again. Emotional hostage-taking attempt. Mind-jacking.You won’t get me. The rumble of your words
Today is February, the First, of 2019I am 39 years old.In a few minutes, we’ll celebrateThe seventh birthday of my younger son. At the back