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such a law written anywhere that everyone knows but says that since three o'clock in the morning everything you say or write are nothing but nonsense. Well are the four and I can swear I've never made much sense something.

Several years ago my life was in a heap of wonderful coincidences. One of them was found. Internet made me read a sentence, and mania to know the reason for all the years and have career masquerading as newsworthy, did the rest. Since then it became an extension of my imagination and any investigative technique to know: find every song he broke was a newaliasing. After weeks swinging between musical notes, I was finally able to join them without a headset. The first moments paralyzed the heart, the second, time. Without realizing I have reviewed my life, anecdotes that everyone knows and reserve time with effort. I enjoyed every movement, every look on, every song. For the first time I did not hesitate to look ahead and say "I'm happy." What many would only be just a concert for me has become a dream come true, namely that so small that it is capable of illuminating each step and give us that touch that sets us apart. But without someone to share Irlo, this is lame, lacks strength, soul,MPRE I need. That CD is now backed by a dedication sleep on my bedside table, next to a pen happily used and a handful of good times when the sun order. But mostly because you come back to me without words again. For all the hugs will be few to thank for having made my dream of yours. It remains for me to be your "sis" and show it along the road. And repeat as often as you can to see if any of them, by chance, words are made up to its own meaning. Anita're big, very big. A million thanks for making me happier than I ever imagined.

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Summer, I know I am part of the absolute minority of people such as lifeguards, waiters underpaid people who live near several shows and gambling dens or nothing to do, that they are already dealing repeat it every day, but ... Why do not you go now? You too long, and no, not "cool."

I think I have never spoken to me, (for bored and movies are the desktop), but it is good to know that during holiday periods to keep the common Vero and let loose of their spectrum , to give him air. What you gonna do, post-adolescent loneliness is what you have.

In one of my moments of chronic boredom, swinging from web to web encout from time to time and remember when

also part of the invisible world that we only remember when you tap to clean, a long trip or we are too haunted by the silence, which appears to turn on the radio. Because I do not know how many things I can be proud, but never erase from my list is that for a time, brief but intense, I had my place among FM's could say that at that time (chu yiars Agou) I was innocent and inexperienced, but if I look back I am more innocent (stupid) and inexperienced now than then. Like all good things, that opportunity came by chance, without warning or anything. Had not sought a place where it will be

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archaron forgotten, but could not. Before opening the door I saw that in that place could not be anything or anyone else. I was too full of emptiness. Climbed to the roof, occupied every shelf, outlined a new hole in your mattress. And, despite costing you accept it, with the passage of time and you will become final permissibly submissive, almost afraid of the rituals of farewell.

is why in a few months you rather close your eyes until you reach a safe place for the health of your memory and begin to assimilate. That is why in a few months you rather write a letter of forgiveness for your dreams past rather than sit at tedious reality: what you carry, will serve to grow, laugh, vorevolver to dream, lose ideas again. But in your case rather not leave anything, the walls are not impregnate you. The vacuum will always be stronger.

The line: Not infrequently I said goodbye, I know the heartbreaking hour of parting - Friedrich Nietzsche

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girded the loop of his coat to fit that feeling its forms, you need to feel the warmth that only the good things pass. The deciduous watched her with curiosity to go against the grain. In his meeting failed to take swift crack the enigma of her smile etched in every sip of skin.

The eclipse of needles at the clock showed dozens of pedestrians on the street. Dwarfed by the sound of their own thoughts. Sentenced to wear a dream to scratch the floor. Wounded in the depths of their routines for that almost levitated as he touched Levemirbody wet sidewalks in their wake. Some even parked their infinite burden of grief for a moment to contemplate better. His image was a sigh of relief from the smoke of the city.

continued his walk with shouts horns hidden in narcotics, people watching the rows of gray to halfway between pity and compassion. They were so far from it ... The lights blink of an embrace dedicated changing neon.

And is that the confession was made to walk well worth a look of happiness around. Rush, perpetual traffic jams, anguish was not contagious ...