I perceived the world without understanding its structure. I was the client of interpretations and definitions, of languages ??that explained to me better than myself, what I saw, lived and felt, to define subsequently, the mission of my life, the role that I had to adopt, until I am, in order to be able, to live with dignity, with respect for my fellow human beings, then acquiring the image of the irreproachable, through an idea conceiving the value of my own time, better than myself. I compared myself to the rest, to note the differences of not knowing my own value, and of knowing how to define it for myself, of being educated to correspond in order to resemble, than of being the disrespectful originality of a proof of life. Loyal to a "normality" that was peculiar to me, I was then under the influence of what hatched the explanations of my ignorance, my perception was then, shaped by reasons that only experience led me to translate, and to polarize. able to what it was, insensitive and unbalanced, imperfect. Perception is a dynamism that is furnished by the experience or the interpretation of an influence, a trust. To experience it is to find in the gaze of the other a portion of one's own. Choosing to learn a lesson is to understand that the infinite recognizes its value, when it ends, when its imperfection dies, when its memory is born. The door to its paradox and the value of its structure lies in the bond that is woven with those we attract and resemble us, a particularity to unravel in order to understand its reflection. The fear of one's reflection is the fear of one's own gaze, subceptively calling out our duty to assume reality, to assume that there is an end, to leave a constructive trace for those arriving after oneself, through duty to acquire the beyond of its limitation. But how to understand to see, if the reference mark which founds us, is itself founded on the discourse of an idea, and not the fatality which binds us? we will not come out of it alive, so why make the irreproachable end over, by standardizing it, if not to endure in spite of oneself, a vision that is not one's own, of not resembling like everyone else, nothing, nothing? other than oneself? The door to find out is beyond short explanations, because it is linked to the rest. It is only by cutting the links that bind us to routine, to the comfort of habits, to the protection of certainties, that the model of what defines us better than oneself is structured, in the exploration of a world. out of their protections and their landmarks, a world which is defined only by itself and the strength of courage to distinguish, a language of confidence of a common language, because doubt weaves the why. His confrontation is impressive, symptomatic, confusing, because if we do not prepare for his meeting, or worse, if he is defined better than himself, then the door to come back from it, closes behind whoever we are. will explain, better than you can, even to the point of forgetting, the reason for her debut, and to have missed the risk of recognizing her own person in the reason for her existence, in the elusive gaze of her own confrontation. I thought I perceived, the responsibility for my choices, in the irresponsibility of my ignorance, to endure by the choice of the silence of what instructed me, the perception of myself, the irresponsibility. I am therefore condemned by the judgment of those who hold my will in silence, to never be forgiven, to be forced to carry the weight of my gaze infinitely, in the memory of what they refuse to face, them same. Their choice is then, irreproachable, for there is no more irresponsible explanation, than "it is like that" in the ears of those who suffer, in the eyes of those who doubt, and in the heart of those who feel.