I have been given the oportunity to ask Mark Harmon a question and I realized that, no matter how many millions of questions and things I've to ask/tell him, my mind was blank in that moment. Oh, the poor mind, devoid of its weapons. Maybe my mind was blocking me from the real loving and admiration for a man who has managed to exorcise one of my most destructive demons. I lighted a cigarette and put a large ducktape on my mind and let my innerself speak. The words came fast and easy. I don't know if my question will be answered [in this time and age] and I won't share with you neither the wondrous way that lead me to achieve such a blessing, nor the question itself. It is as private to me as it would be trivial to you. In fact, I don't even care much if the question will be replied to, because my soul has eagerly fed upon the thought of it being answered and now it's satisfied. Spirits don't need to talk through mail [no, that's not a hint of any sort, but take it as you wish].
My spirit feeds in mysterious ways, you'd say. Yes, but it feeds and lives with intensity. I realize that words cannot convey certain states and if they would, the whole core of the state would be diminished. In fact, I realized this long ago and it gives so much credit to words, who* are supposed to express every state that one person can experience [*words are living tools]. Well, to me, it is not a state of mind, but of spirit. Mind works in words and concepts, the spirit works with a fuel from beyond and would react with words like antimatter with matter. I don't care if your spirit works with concepts, mine doesn't and I like to label myself.
I can't be grateful enough for whatever force has put me face to face with this man. I will not continue to stain his beautiful assistance with words.