I have an instinct all my own. I like living this way—without limits, letting life shape itself around me. I play with time, defying its precision. Nothing can be too serious. I follow the hands of my own heart. I am someone who lives to excess; I am the surprise of never pausing exactly when I should. I am a skittish butterfly—one that takes risks—waiting for the most beautiful flower. In every passing minute, I am the suggestion of a moment. I am feeling, attachment, affection, and longing. For as long as I live, I will always feel that I haven't loved enough. I am simply myself, in every single instant.