was seen coming for some time, but he continued to be neither more nor less so. The days on holiday and spend almost all the same notion of time vanishes. This will take madness chronic sickening, is that everything I do is sleep. And the winter to help make everything the same, but so are all seasons, cold cold cold and rain rain rain, sun sun sun. I do not like to leave or to cold or heat, and I wonder, why the fall and spring are not the same as before? it was beautiful weather. But I'm going around the bush and do not quite say what I wanted, I forget, I lose retention of words. Or the expression is that I already forgot about me as writing. The thing is, at least I know I do not want, or think I know what I would not, and that's saying a lot. This from the indesición is a chronic problem. I hear the same old thing and really I'd better go to sleep. The worst thing is that insecurity that leave you and you shit all the psyche (that which one has shit before, even more), as we say sincerely, mother fuckers, but then I never let you go, if I promise not to disappear.
