I cannot leave this book back to my shelf and let be it in pace until I write something about it. I just can say, what a book! I carried it with me every day. It was inside of every purse that I had worn for the past months. I read it in the bus, in the subway, in the train, in my bed,  in others bed,  in the wood, my families house, hidden from my boss at work, waiting for my next Lyft passenger in my car. It was with me everywhere. If my father could see it, he would feel embarrassed about me at seeing the deplorable state of my book at the moment of giving the last reading.  I accidentally poured water on it. I ripped the front covert off it with the glove compartment of my car. It is not possible to read the press’s comments on the back cover of the book anymore.  I underline every inspiring phrase. I drew starts next to key ideas. I placed some hearts next to paragraphs when I felt an emotional connection through the author’s comments. I put some spirals next to paragraphs where I could find interdisciplinary connections; deep associations between different subjects regarding psychology, astronomy, biology, ecologism, history, art, symbolism, and philosophy. Probably you might think that I am careless, but you know what.  This book deserved to be treated like that. No human has lived without scars. This book became alive since the first moment that I touched it to never go back to a shelf and become a death object again. This book lives and its words became reality into my psychic. Man and His Symbols is a book written by Carl Jung. What is this book about? Mmm complex question. It talks about many things actually, however, the only thing that I can say there is a beautiful connection between what we dream, what we are meant to be, and the unknown energy that governs the existence. Enyoing a reading about the mysteries of life.