the basic knowledge of life

Physical pain is superficial, and only the spirit of the pain is real pain.
Since the bread into the workshop in the basement of the house, you meet every day and every day I used to talk to people cut off from, 

and between them if I put up a wall.

No one came to see me, because I work fourteen hours a day, no leisure to Andre go there. Encountered on the bed or holiday work and workshops where they fool around.
Beginning, some companions took me as a happy pill, and one with a child-like, we like to listen to interesting stories.
Who knew that I could give them .  Yeah, in short, well, actually raises them to a not very clear, but the easy, good life for himself. Sometimes, my story is very good, or sad or blame them or hate emotions exposed, and I'm happy myself, I secretly thought I was doing the thinking work, I teach the people in it.
I have low self-esteem, I felt so weak, so ignorant, and sometimes even the basic knowledge of life do not know.
This time, I felt as if abandoned in a dark hole in the ground, people like the big hole in the ground crawling insects, as they did not dare to face reality, all day, visiting the brothel drilling pub, to the cold embrace of a prostitute for comfort.
Salaried end of each month, they will go to patronize the brothels, the arrival of this wonderful day the first week, they began to enter a gadfly gadfly. 
Observations such as back, long, long time not to wake up from a share of the sweet, they shamelessly flaunt myself in bed, and how the ravages of prostitution. Speaking of prostitutes, their look of disdain, and even spit to show "pure."