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is a beautiful prison


do not know if I really did the right thing, but my brain says yes .. the rest is quite insecure ... so sad ... maybe it's sleep that is not was one of those refreshing sleep and maternal, that put everything to rest for a while ... well, the evil to live is not very complicated, if you put in mind that once Boredom is just incomprehensible to two ... I did not sleep a dick ... but I want to sleep at least 4 or 5 months, so let slide this time so complicated ...
I stay on my tile 30 cm by 30 cm and Sassuolo ... I remember his face that I no longer ... and I wonder how I can keep myself in my back ... we are friends ... for the rest limps a little ...
prison is a beautiful world ...

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the world I want to go girl ... Very bad


know that when I go to bed tired, I need to hear the sound of rain, that tichettio infallibbile constant and, as a child I loved the time, secretly went out into the courtyard to hear all that water on head, and every time I stayed hours to ask where it came from.
Now I have not lost the taste, sometimes when there is so much fog, if you approach the towers of the wires, you can hear the sizzle fog, and in the morning there is an unmistakable smell of youth, the smell that did you know a child that had come the spring, and who was also the time to observe the beautiful flower in the night unfold as the sun.
very little was enough to make you happy, the smell of the rosemary plant knotted throughout the course of the near and distant chatter heard in secret.
that child has not been lost is still here, every so often comes to mind and I see the same girl in their eyes.
Maybe when I see it I feel to save her, maybe sometimes I can not save her from everything, but at least I know when I'm not mistaken, I can show him the world, the beautiful, made even ground km cycling with the evening air on the face, the wind and jackets that inflate like balloons Move your feet to the brake pads, that's when you close your eyes from sleep and it was nice to fall asleep without having to think about what to do tomorrow ...

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What's wrong?
There is turned off and I feel empty, tired and embarrassed, disappointed, but also very angry, but only when I find the quiet I understand that I also instill the error of my own. Do not ask
why, but you are only listening. This
helpless children play with soap bubbles and break all always, as it is a bit off the head off her favorite doll, they never do it on purpose, but only by accident, by inadvertence.
Because sometimes they run their hands to their cocks, do not respond to basic commands of the brain, but only heard a whistle and then tearing, scratching and beat.
You know I do not know, but it is very bad right there in the middle.
Almost like getting a bullet in the head.
There are wings that take us away from here, there is hope that it will change us, because nobody ever changes, we are all equal in front of her.
And I tell you that remained the same, only this has changed my way I have, how to never open your eyes on the essentials, but beautiful and terrible, terrible, why do not you know never to be hurt until you finish the blood, beautiful because you can take everything, collect everything in your head and your heart, everything that makes you feel alive when the years are to reap their true justice.
I fell in love I can, but then crash all, there are times when I wake up and when I open my eyes I see it smashed at the foot of the bed.
There are moments when I try too much and the wrong people and I wake up in between the sheets to the poison, he thinks, if I turn to look at who is on the other part, I only see a mask that I like a lot but that is fintissima, the baroque and grotesque.
Maybe it's because I can not walk standing still but I just try to crawl, or maybe because I would finally sit down, do not you say.
But shit, I should really stop dreaming, even though it hurts to lose all hope, even though it hurts to lose thrust.
If you really lose that momentum, the one that makes me laugh even when the time is right, even when I hear a rump too bitter, it will mean that they are turned off and that the brain does not work with the thoughts, but only with the vulgar impulses electric, and my heart leaps just because there is too much oxygen in the blood, and that those memories are nothing but impressed in the memory of odors instinctive.
shit how much it hurts.

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Oibò. What patience


This morning I went there, the chick who knew my sister had a half cuddly when he saw me.
"... you like her, it's awesome, as beautiful as her, it also resembles your aunt"
I asked if he could tell me something about her, but the lady said that we will and time to do it.
Today is her birthday (my sister) and I saw people who wanted to help her, all by coincidence.
This means that my guardian angel (the working poor!), Is telling me that I can do it, but rather that there I will do it!
So I smile: D