Now I understand what it means.
The infinite sadness.
Once you've to do is set in motion a process that is impossible to stop. It creeps into the bowels like a worm under the skin, inside the capillaries, from the heart. The infinite sadness that persists no matter what happens. It is not always manifested openly, it is easy to evade, deceive many and yourself first, that there are really a feeling of serenity. But she is always there. The worm strip and is always in motion, under the skin, under the skin, inside the plasma, invisible, such as platelets, to cover the entire body.
Eventually you get used to, it's like a cuckoo clock, which rings every hour, even at night. Initially you can not sleep, but then, over the nights, you get used and you get to totally unnoticed as the hours chime with shrill chirps. But the cuckoo disappears. The bird continues to emerge from his world of wood and gears and continues to mark the hours, that if you do or not.
The infinite sadness is the same thing. Only when the fashion is to be heard exploding in its harshness and devastation, but the Most of the time with the habit and skill it is ignored. But she does not disappear. He's under the skin.
Strip.
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