I'm very complicated. My father's name was sexuality. He was a wise man. He know that he is not that simple himself. When talking about him, he always cited eating as an example. Not only the minerals and calories are important when eating, but the way you take them in.

It doesn't matter how nutritive your food is if it looks disgusting. Even the most fascinating course worth nothing if it can not satisfy you. Just like some kind of modern breads which are literally "pumped up" with air. Looks like a dream, but after eating it, you have the same hunger than before. Because something is missing there.

I'm beautiful. I know it. And I have learnt that all what is beautiful is good. Taught by those, who used to learn the same. Or out of fear of being rejected by other, if they don't socialise with me. Maybe it is my next life, where I am going to learn, that all I am now proud of are not the labour of my own work. And I only respect those who are on the same level and look down on those of whom I don't even know how deep they started off.

I have seven siblings. Sometimes they think, they are females, at other times males.

The first one is a journalist. The second one is a filmmmaker. The third one is a writer. The fourth is a poet. The fifth is a businessman. The sixth one is a musician. The seventh one has the habit of changing his profession. Sometimes teacher, then chauffeur or shopkeeper. And God knows what else. My siblings are attracted to me very much. Addicted. Each one can see different things in me.

The journalist is always comparing me with others. What makes me good or bad, who is better than me, and who is worse. What I am like and what should I be like. More masculine to attract men. More feminine to attract women. More masculine to attract women. More feminine to attract men.

The filmmaker does everything according to his mood. Sometimes he takes photos as well. If he is in a good mood, he weaves a real story around me, which engulfs me all. You can hardly see me. He only suggests that I exist. In these moments he knows exactly what is good for the viewer's soul. If he is in a bad mood, he puts me in the limelight. The viewer is dead keen on me while waching. I make appetite in him. But who's gonna tell me how to eat me?

My writer's mood is also changing from time to time. Sometimes he is grabbed by maelstroms. At one time, he says I am made for everyone. At other times, that I am a beast to keep away from. He also says that I chase others. I knock them to the ground.

My businessmen brother wants to sell me all the time. He even regrets the clothes I have on me. Why could he not save some money if they would buy me without clothes? But doesn't bother him, that by doing this everyone gets the same thing to see?

My poet brother is retired. He only writes for himself.

My musician brother tries to get on well with everybody. With the journalist, the filmmaker, the writer, the businessman. The most with the latter. Sometimes he gives his own feelings, but not too often.

My seventh brother believes everything what the others say. Mostly. Sometimes he believes his own feelings. Sometimes he is aware of the fact, that we two can only understand each other when we both are able to give and take as well. Most of the time he has only one wish; to be served by me. Then he goes without looking back for a while for coming back even hungrier.

So those are my siblings. Which one is you?