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Silent Night, Blasphemous Night

eh ... I'm still alive I know that for some this will be 'a disappointment, but there are still: D

As the next days I do not know if I'll be able' to post, I wanted to wish everyone happy holidays with a cheerful Christmas song XD

Silent Night, Blasphemous Night

(based on "Stille Nacht" written in 1818 by Joseph Mohr and Franz X. Gruber)

Silent night, blasphemous night.
People quake at the sight.
Monsters rising from deep R'lyeh.
People screaming "Please go away!"
Great Cthulhu has come,
Great Cthulhu has come.

Silent night, blasphemous night.
Great Ones reign, death's in sight.
Horrid beasties enslaving mankind,
Cosmic terror destroying your mind.
We're all going to die,
We are all going to die.

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cubic Peppers Superiority

around three in the morning for the first time I was watching "The Cube-cube", which actually made me better appreciate the two sequels that I have now seen about twelve times each. At one point, toward the beginning, the protagonists try to take stock of the situation, or trying to figure out why you woke up in a labyrinth full of cubic rooms stuffed with killer traps. Reached the point where the alpha male asks all what is the last thing I remember, I have just time to hear the doctor say "Peppers" with incredible vehemence that I die modem.

Then try to understand why never a hysterical woman trapped in a death machine should respond "Peppers!" to this request. Maybe that sweet peppers are the cornerstone around which the whole story? Or maybe the general structure of the maze is shaped like a still life of peppers? He not seen the passing of the peppers on the way to get to the cubic room is located in? Do you think shooting random words someone will be struck by a brilliant idea that explains the entire process that brought them there? And if so, what would say then? Table? Martin Luther King? Greek car license plates? Chocopops? Or the most obvious but very accurate 42?

Only time (and any reconnect to the server) could solve the mystery.

I then reconnected to the server, among other things, putting a lot of time, and I discovered that the infamous exclamation ortaggesca referred to the dinner the night before, the last memory before the entrance of the lady I mentioned above polyhedron regular.

Now try to imagine what should be the intellectual level of a woman who, remembering the events after about eight hours earlier, from immediately to the most significant highlight of the evening: the peppers. And this also leads me to theorize that if the room equilateral soon will feel a strange smell may not be nerve gas.

final consideration. You can pretty much gloss over the fact that the film is predictable and that I understood the role of each character already in the first six minutes, and here a note to the credit goes to the early vision of the sequel, so I can not help but notice that for a vote at the end of the story are not the chick on duty and her future husband to escape. Big applause to the writer.

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conceptual

11:00 am, Faculty of Physics, bulletin board notices. About fifteen comma ottocentosessantatrè ads sublet, a dozen invitations to theme parties (graduates, new graduates, new graduates, neo-takers, neo-examined, former graduates, former graduates, ex-students, ex-takers, etc..), and a quote: Re 7, 23-24. Apparently a puzzle, but a closer look at a verse from the Bible. The shock terrifies me. The breath becomes short, the pupils shrink, part perspiration emergency. One thought in mind: "I arrived here too!".

It is well known and obvious, that the faculty of physics, as the last bastion of anti-religion in medieval times and the home of science and the devil, the Holy Scriptures (or quotes from them) catch fire the slightest contact with any surface, or, if necessary, with any air flow slightly intense than a sigh.

immediately sought to rationalize:

Batrax: Perhaps the titles do not fall into the category subject to spontaneous combustion ...

Batrax Brain: But if until now you had to evacuate for a fire caused by the "Numbers"! By the way, have you noticed what has become a common option in this incident?

B: Well then maybe this is something different, say, a coded message.

CDB: Do you realize where we are?! If anyone here wants to leave a message in code, does not use the Bible, use the "Scientific Programming Advanced edition Feltrinelli.

B: So is the end, we have to say to the dean, if we have moles means a declaration of war, the walls do not hold up forever, we need to replenish stocks of gunpowder and supplies sufficient to procuraci Siege of years.

To which the brain begins to go into panic

CDB: What the hell you say! We think those of chemical dust, and food supplies to those in botany, we have to do now is pass the bar the gates and barbed wire in front of the ditch.

B: But we do not have a moat!

CDB: So let's hurry to build it, for all the nebulae!

When I think now that the dangerous tachycardia that my hypothalamus feeds will result in ventricular fibrillation, I realize that here is a note in the margin. This is the song on the writing I've just seen, and reads:

He made a pool of molten metal ten cubits from brim to brim, round, and his height was five cubits and its circumference thirty cubits.

now under further note:

As you can see, the second the Bible, or the "Word of God" (thank God), the greek pi is exactly three, and three fourteen ordinary mortals like us mistakenly continue to think.

I relax, the heartbeat slows down, I give myself a laugh of relief and appreciation of another all'arguzia author of the note, which once again raised the well have prevailed, and then I start giving way to the boy who was waiting in the queue.

Just a few steps and feel a shortness of breath that comes from my shoulders, so I turn and see the guy behind me while sweating, seems lost in its horror. I shake his head good-naturedly and say to myself "Ah, freshmen."

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Sergeant Hartman

After I woke with the alarm placed directly into the Eustachian tube (or was Fallappio? I never remember), in the face with happiness typical of someone who has just killed his dog infected by zombie to spare him a painful and possibly contagious zombie-death, I am going to go to university after an hour and a half plenty of travel.

all begins for the better (where better means "I arrived at the bus stop just as the mine went off and I have to wait another quarter of an hour before the next ") in this beautiful day when the humidity is slightly lower than that of the Mariana Trench, but undaunted, I am determined to keep his good humor had the cheerful evening spent in good company and a bottle of Youporn Baylies.

arrival of the bus I recover from the torpor postsbornia and struggled to her feet waiting ivy has begun to grow over, losing bits of shoes in the transaction to which the evil plant did not want to give up . Taking the half I realize that many seats are empty, which proves once again that I have injected bleach into the game Levissima had its effect, and in the ass to Messner.

take place and I look around to make circumspect version of Fight Club, but try more like Pitt that Norton (not that I have anything against Edward Norton, mind you, but it seems that Pitt earn more), when sloppiness of a guerrilla known fixing urgently an unspecified point up to my chest.

After a few calculations quickly discarded the possibility that he intends to lie on my chest on a hot summer night to be lulled by the beat of my heart, and I realize with horror instead of not having included in the t-shirt Pendant "-caliber bullet-parabellum-empty-the-dust-by-shot-to-avoid-legal-consequences-unintended "whereby they do not indifferent to the possibility for an outsider to attack from a particular speech so relevant for my figure.

Stranger: So you did the military (very aware that they are too young to fall in the lever mandatory and that I would not be where I am if I had deliberately chosen a career military)

Batrax: No is the gift of a friend

Then the stranger part on a tangent with a dissertation on his experience to the poisonous training camp and how this has enriched him, but I wonder how low can the minister of defense have come to rely recruiting individuals with so little engaging.

Finally in the distance a glimmer of hope lights up for me, THAT'S THE END OF THE LINE! Father Christmas as happy as I go down in August, unaware that I have been hopelessly spoiled my mood so painstakingly built, convinced of fleeing it, when the entrance to the subway, I realize I have been supported from call that with an evil grin is going to further his experience, while I happily try to cut the skin of the wrists with the house keys.

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The Spiders continue to migrate Migration

Good Tursiops, sciachimista low-level, took a pretty heavy beating last year.
Item is recoverable in the history of this blog exactly here.
I began to do some research to respond to his delusional article can be found here .
Later, Simone Angioni, chemical Cicap, wrote more than a very comprehensive article from the technical point of view, found at his blog .

Now that a year later we see the miedesimi filaments, it is expected that the bottlenose dolphin is convinced that the phenomenon is clearly seasonal and natural ...
Articles about spiders migration I personally linked, the analysis and the many links that Angioni Attivissimo to put on his blog , speak out.
But I tell you to do?
The bottlenose dolphin has not understood one stone and falling back there ... here.

How not to comment on his delirium? In opening

already known that something in his nerve ganglia must have gone in short circuit:

Today October 24, 2009 in the South-West of Milan and more specifically near Assago (MI) has noted the extensive loss of pith. Like last year, this phenomenon is repeated only in conjunction with a high traffic of tankers issuing the well-known and toxic chemtrails. I had evidence that North of Milan today there was a heavy chemical-biological attack. But blessed

whale, in Milan there are two, say two airports.
Moving the bypass can almost touch the planes as they are low.

To date, these filaments NOT natural webs created by spiders and data (but also just the pure observation) to prove it.

not bothered by chemical or biological, but we use our fingers and touch these holy filaments.
are white, sticky cobwebs ... you want to look like they were never really cobwebs?
The data show the contrary we want to see them all.
I remember the whale that the comments on this blog are free.

My advice is not to listen to those who say not to worry, it would be crazy, but most of all DO NOT TOUCH these filaments with their bare hands!

Please do, touch, spalmateveli him panting the name of Tursiops.
If something happens I think you personally responsible.

The "strange" coincidence is that this phenomenon manifests itself clearly just before plowing of land for new crops.

With a pernicious reasoning known to coincide with the plowing of the land and not by the migration of spiders.
'm thrilled.

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Where 'control over the weather? Mysterious

So ... and 'I look from one heck of tampax'm still 100 meters from the launch pad ...

[cut]

Ares had to leave at 13, now ... and as I write and Italian 'still standing ' cause the weather to the launch area are not favorable.
Sorry, but you and HAARP 'broken by any chance? And Tankeroni antinuvola? everyone else?

Bah, that organization menga ...

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duels in the skies

overdose of crap written by O 'Captain has reached dizzying levels.
I felt lacking after reading the last pearl of ruddy rosary and I can not refrain from commenting.
The article ... the jumble of nonsense is here.

all begins by reporting a sciachimista Neapolitan who claims to have seen, at 2:00 am, fighters who chased the ball on the bright skies of Naples.
E 'did not take to unleash the crazy pen Commander.
The event is momentous, because we see one of the first crossover between sciachimismo ufology and petty.
A sigh of relief for those who feared (like me) who ufology insane (not that serious) was out of fashion.

is the enigmatic phrase of the Neapolitan Francesco Servino:

aircraft emitted a mysterious trail

Military aircraft emitting trails, amazing and delicious dish for the brand.
Onset is great:

We wonder why a military unit is involved in the Scramble , creating a trail: It is possible that substances dispersed in the atmosphere are used to damage or neutralize the spheres? What a plane

military is involved in the scramble is a tautology, given that the scramble is the rapid deployment of air power to intercept a threat.
born but also another use of chemtrails.
addition to the myriad of uses alleged by sciachimisti, now seems that might serve to bring down aircraft aliens. The Trademark

not be peace and continues to ask: Why

generate contrails, on occasions when it is better that the plane is not seen, since the military operations that organs "competent" prefer to maintain absolute reserve.

The same question that you did the B52 pilots bombed while Saigon.
because they emit trails that can be readily identified by the enemy?
But the fact that the contrails are an annoying problem that dates back to World War II, that the mark does not accept it, in fact, refuted him (in his own way).

Now there is a sense of vertigo, as hyperventilation, because it touches high levels of delirium:

These balls of light might possess a form of intelligence and conscience and come from parallel dimensions.

Incommentabile.

spoke Marina now such a Saviour, which is presented by Rosario as "an expert in Neapolitan facts."
I'm still racked my brains trying to figure out what that title means.
A friend of mine knows the names and positions on many walks Domiziana: this may mean "an expert in Neapolitan facts"? Leaving
open the question of the title of "expert", let the testimony of key Savior

followed a corridor is very different from that of civil aircraft taking off from Capodichino airport and at low altitude, staring at the sky for a long time, Following a strange

The Savlatore is surprised that the military aircraft do not cross the corridors of the departure of civilian aircraft.
The next time you land or take off from Capodichino Gratteri I strongly hope that military jets continue their strange decision to avoid collisions of planes leaving the airport.
These soldiers are just weird ... There is also a

Pattera gem of George, who comes out with the following statement:

scholar notes that many areas where there have been sightings of UFOs are classified as a medium to high seismic risk

cash you just close your eyes and punare a finger at random on the map of Italy to find a seismic zone, we should be invaded by swarms of UFOs and in fact every day for so many ufologists
Rosarione catches the ball and adds:

The connection between UFOs and earth energies may even extend to volcanos: the wave of sightings Neapolitan could herald an eruption of Vesuvius? One is reminded of a "prophecy" of Ptaah , one of the mentors of the Swiss contactee Billy Meier. Ptaah Meier announced that it was necessary to expect an eruption of the volcano that dominates, with its huge cone, the Gulf of Naples.

The Manzione Meier, indeed, even his mentor with a name vaguely Klingon, it takes trust.
We know that, even before reading, that the cow is assured.
Predicting that Vesuvius will erupt sooner or later, as the volcano exploded the world's busiest, even Nostradamus had considered self-evident and had not bothered to write a quatrain (although I bet there's definitely a Boscolo Renucio suits).

was a bit I could not find an article in the ruddy rosary that would make me dizzy with so few lines.
will the change of season, will be the old age (Rosario, not mine).
I had almost lost interest in cows of brand, but I forgot to put the lie to him and his rabble of fools is a civic duty ... and then they pay me to do it ... (here there should be a satanic laugh).

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After the ruling on the immunity law, we wish the Premier ...

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The Centaur and 'party for the office to Selene ...



zret Sorry for the title to, but I just wanted to notify the parties that the Centaur and 'now in the pipeline, and crash 'on the moon in about 15 minutes.
Here the link to the countdown, here the link to see the explosion live on NASA TV.

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Waiting

Maybe you sleep ... Maybe there I could too! As always, my mind is crowded with a myriad of things, especially in this moment memories.
I know, I know: you have to look ahead ... But how can I do if I forget what I have just left behind me?
do not know what I would give now to be able to speak, even if it was the confusion that I have within me. Or just to watch you sleep. How many times have I done.
Sometimes I take a very strong desire to extend my hand as to want to reach out for you: it is as though something in me told me that he would still have you, no matter where I am. Basically it would be easier ...
would be easy, right? Should I just close my eyes, leaning on my hand and feel there with me. Maybe we're really, but I can not tell my true feelings than purely illusory; I can not tell if what I feel is true or merely the result of yet another self-deception.
I know that, in one way or another, these doubts will be dispelled, but I must admit that I expect to continue to work harder than I ever imagined.
The fact is that hard or not hard, that's what I do: I've done so far and continue to do so ... Until I know that the waiting time will finally come to an end.
And, perhaps, is precisely that moment that I should fear more ... The

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The knife

nights are strange, this: my hands and mind run free, and each node keyboard seems loose, but I know it's not all. The largest node is still there, waiting for me, challenges me to delete it because he knows I can do it. The easiest thing at this point, you say "I'll make sure," but would not be true: I have doubts.
E 'and a confused period, in some respects, difficult. My mind is clouded by a flood of memories, from fear, from the words that fill my thoughts, unable to escape. And all this is depressing, is "heavy .
I do everything possible not to drag me down I know I can do that and I will succeed. Writing. For the umpteenth time, I do not care what comes out of my mind and my hands, but will be out! Whatever it is, be free! And if not now find a way, does not mean that it has not ... And I'll find, well, I'll find out.
And 'the only cure I have, the only remedy I know to give vent to all that stirs in me. Quell ' scream that is still growing, which has not yet reached the size of a real scream, which I will ease gradually.
maybe I'll feel drained afterwards, and I fear. But that's where I can start over, that's where I'll start to really walk . Somehow, I am new: shut up the door that separates myself writing in this time by myself that I'll be bringing in the baggage of all that I have experienced. Without the ballast, without allowing imaginary weights are passed for real, preventing me to go on, get up to . Why are not made to stand down: I found my wings, I found that I can use them and I just have to cut the ballast.
Writing is my knife, my projects and my will and the hand that holds the operation with increasing power and effectiveness. Ballast will be the last cut, and only that will remain on the ground, and I'll be finally free.
Again . The cage I myself have built collapse. And I'll be really, really free ... The

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Il Trovatore

"... In this dark night, wrapped in to you I am. And you do not know it ..."

I can not say more. Not now ...
I, really, but I can not.
I wrote because only through the words of Leonora I can take out from the mind and heart that I live.
But enough: I should not write it, and these words are already too vague!
The time will come, but now it's early ... Not now. The

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I closed my eyes. Surprisingly, not to put anything into that limbo between sleep and wakefulness. I hear outside sounds muffled and distant, but I have full knowledge of me. A feeling began to make space in me, becoming stronger, more defined: fear. My body is immobilized, but I'm smiling. This time I am aware, is beginning! I feel the fear invade my whole body, but I know it's normal, I'm ready to go. Now I know what it is, and even fear itself, yet so strong, I'm not afraid anymore.
begins to move, as to want to sit. But I know they are absolutely still. Keep moving, almost unbearable in that mixture of elation and fear. Everything is confused, dark ... But it is normal: it is night. And 'as if, by dint of wanting sat up, go down, but instead I'm lifting, I'm seconding . As long as I turn around, and the mess that I see, I see myself. What a nice feeling to not have more weight!
I really want to go, but I still can not. So I came back. I'll be back in me.
open my eyes for a brief moment, as if about to fall out of bed, but now they close it and start to dream. And dream of you.
remember only the final part of the dream: we were invited to a wedding, it was early morning and I was changing. I do not know why, at that point in the dream I was outside in a dirt clearing, the former type distributor abandoned gas station. My clothes were placed on a low wooden stool painted red. You had to get changed too, but I knew it was inside the house (you had not seen it yet, but I knew that you were there). At one point I turned and saw a luxury car all polished, very dark. Not really black, but almost. Inside there you are.
I greet you with a "Hey" smiling, but you do not answer to my greeting, nor to my smile. You look at me intently in the eye with an expression which transpire feel pain, anger, extreme tiredness. Try to tell me something, but nothing comes out of your mouth, not a single sound. I see you almost breathe with difficulty, I understand what you have inside is too big and heavy so you can speak. The smile has since disappeared from my face, and my time I look at you intensely. I feel we are really talking, even if we do not say anything: I hear what you have inside you, you hear what I have inside me. Then I see you go, and I will follow with his eyes. I do not know how, but I know you're coming home to get changed, but then I wake up. I still have before my eyes that look. So that is the same that I would see if I was really in front, or if I was in front at this time.
I do not think I've felt closer to you, I do not think I heard you closer to me as during the dream, while that exchange of looks hopeless without speaking. Perhaps the only time I really understood.
you do not talk, but you told me everything. I've heard. Now I know.
you gave me your pain, you showed me in his true face, and I had to go through and overcome the fear to be able to accept. I will have handed over my fear, I harnessed and imprisoned in a strange Pandora's box that only you could deliver. We created the custodians of our darkness.
And darkness is not cheating, you should not, you can not.
E 'perhaps the most authentic of us: trade or kill, destroy us.
I am a fool, but a part of me believes that you have made my own dream. Practically impossible, it is just another one of my delusions. Whatever
has happened, I will take with me that look: a universe to defend ... Your darkest part clearly in the early morning sun ... The

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Dreams 2 Dreams and delusions and delusions

I dreamed last night, to live the day before my death sentence. Well, yes: in my dream I was aware that he was sentenced to death, execution would take place the next day. For this reason my hair (in the dream longer than in reality) had to be cut, and I myself have decided to do it. To my immense surprise, I then saw that they were just more clear cut. Practically blond. I felt oppressed, as if I had a boulder on his chest, and I was distressed over belief. It all seemed so real. I could hear voices around me I knew the feeling sorry, I felt they felt sorry for me, but I could not understand to whom they belonged. Gradually, I realized that it was a dream, but part of me was convinced that the death sentence was real, how real was the implementation ... And it all became very confusing, until I woke up. The feeling of oppression has been going on for a while ', I still felt anxious and it took me a while' to realize that there never was any death sentence and that, consequently, there would be no execution .
rarely so well I happen to remember a dream, and sometimes that happens to me is always dreams of this type. I do not know why all this, I really do not know.
Of course, while this may serve as inspiration to get my hands free, it is still good.
is perhaps the dream I had last night, is it that so many things in my past have resurfaced in my mind, but my heart bleeds. Again.
Why must I be denied what I need? Why should I consider it an impossible dream, when I see that everyone around me, however, is reality? I'm tired of suffering, are tired of swallowing the tears behind my smile and camouflage so reassuring. I'm tired of pretending to be comfortable when but I have not yet ceased to suffer. There are wounds that now I have forgotten, there are wounds that remind me constantly but their presence ... But perhaps there are wounds that never close completely and, as evil can do this awareness, I have to live with. Every now and are being felt, with all their burden of pain, and every time it is as if a thunderbolt hit me, but then everything calmed down and I almost get the impression that these wounds to heal. But I must be careful not to believe in this illusion, or the next time you reopen the wounds, I could not resist.
I wish my life was more peaceful, I wish this was part of my life so much desire, that so far I have almost always looked as if through a glass. I know I have to break and, despite my fear, I know I'm capable of doing so. And I'm going to do it. Hurt, suffer perhaps more than now, but I now know to be alive , and not simply in life, then I will have an awareness of being infinitely more, I'll get to a level definitely higher. The

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True Reflections Night

E 'is now one of my many sleepless nights. I do not sleep, I can not: my mind has become too small a container for all the ideas, thoughts, memories I have and they're overflowing. Writing has become the only "cure."
I need it like a drug, and the night has become my ideal state. Not a place or a time period, but a real state.
At night, the very night is much more than the period in which the sun illuminates the earth is a state of mind, a way of life, a condition of the soul. One way to think, to find peace, to remove the mask that is worn regularly during the day. I asked myself many times because I can almost only at night to have a deeper and more authentic contact with the real me. Obviously, this is part of my nature, a nature that only a few years ago I learned to accept, although I knew a long time and this is the conclusion I have reached. A chill has
just the way my body: closing my eyes at that moment I felt as if I were not just in my room, sitting cross-legged on the bed at crazy beat words on the keyboard of the pc ... But elsewhere, outside, wrapped in the night and nothing else, listening to the silence only to find my inner music. Rather, to rediscover it. Because I knew well, once, and then, coincidentally, the night I listened carefully and I did drag her. I saw myself and I approached us, but something made me fall, I did not believe what I was seeing was real. Now I'm back to that state, are in touch with my true essence, while the night brings me while I let the Night is part of me. I can hear my music again, I recognize it: it becomes more defined, clearer, is beginning to urge. I can even perceive vibrations in me. I'm making music. I always have been, why I love her so much. Loving the music, loving the night, I love myself. I'm facing myself, as if I look in the mirror, but I know I'm going to lick it in contact.
One step is done, I look hard in front of me and my peers I patiently essence, as it advances toward me at my own pace. I stretch my arm to make contact ... Are nearer to the final contact is imminent ... Contact ... The
Contact. The

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E 'a long time since I was a desire to write like that, straight off, without thinking. I'm taking revenge on all of this dark period. And I had created the dark, trying to repress this desire, this passion. Words perhaps thrown down by chance, but nothing happens by accident. If words are not so much in that order, there is definitely a reason. Although I can not see it right away.
Also this gives me proof that I have a brain, and it works better than I had ever admitted. I dream, I hope, like all m'incazzo. But I know why.
That which I would have shocked to feel rage now I'm more angry than before, I'm not ashamed anymore. The shame is for my fellow men who, although having a brain, do not. To keep people away, to avoid like the plague. People whose very afraid.
E 'instead come up with beautiful people who talk about these things and more, and I have the great fortune to have found someone with whom to do so. This person, perhaps unwittingly, has managed to show me and take the road more important than to myself. It made me open my eyes to many aspects of life to which I was almost brought to intuition, perhaps, but still I was not able to actually see. Now I can not. With the changes I made in recent years, but thanks to his company.
We tend to underestimate the influence that people have on us, and always manage to focus only on negative influences. This time it is not: I was already time to certain types of change even before we met, her presence is merely "accelerated" certain processes. Because it was time to happen, because it was the right time.
Nothing happens by chance, I've already said.
Talking, explaining, arguing, believe in something, and always compare them: this is just a human being a man. Or a woman. Indignant for a common cause, each with their own beliefs, but always for the same reason. Lay bare his own being through art and words. Put together the mind, heart and hands. Why who is capable of this will never be underestimated. Can be taken seriously short, may be considered crazy, may perhaps be somewhat feared (because intelligence is often bothers), but never, never, be underestimated.
I spent my life to underestimate myself and the only result is that the world has behaved in the same way. I was wrong. So what are my strengths, and I want to strengthen them even more, until I can do that, I know what my limits are and I want to do in order to meet and exceed those impassable and cut those that can and should be killed.
I've always tried not to admit it, but growing up in an environment in which the position was never well seen has left deep scars in me. Signs that I am able, little by little, to erase. I would say that from that point of view, much of the work was done. But there is still much work to do to reach the ideal level. I know I have the strength to do it with some success. And, most important, and beautiful, I know I am not alone in this. There are those who believed and believe in me, and only know this gives me so much of that force in more than you'll hardly believe it.
But I do not care if anyone believes it or not: this is my life, this is what I live and I want to hold it tight, because time is not returns. It waits for no one! The

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The cry softly

I want to let go of their hands and write what comes into my head, even though it may not have a logical thread. Telling the strange feelings tonight, halfway between sleeping and waking, while a wind that seemed to me that I did not feel I pulled her face from side to side and felt a pain that, in reality, there was a real pain . Telling the overcrowding of thoughts and memories in my mind, the multitude of conflicting feelings that filled and still fills my heart.
For too long, I was not writing, and those little knots that I had inside me, that melted as they systematically I wrote, joined together in one big knot that I take a huge effort to undo. I started writing again, not caring much about what comes out of my mind, from my heart, my hands, because for now the important thing is that what I have inside will not remain longer confined indoors. It 'cry like a liberating, with the difference that has left almost in a whisper and it will take a long time to come back to silence. Maybe he will not ... And part of me if you wish. I feel like I need to scream, scream, but what? It does not matter. Now the important thing is the cry, which carries with it the pain, anger, fear that all this time have been enclosed in me as in a cage too small. A cage that I built myself, here's the paradox. I aspire to freedom and trying to reach build my own jail. So, as I built it, I can break down. I know I can do, and I started to do so. Hard work? Of course you do! But the beauty is that, although difficult, is not difficult.
I'm afraid ... But I will not stop. I'm still a step closer to full consciousness of who I really and, of course, exactly what I sense they are, I know what my strengths and my limitations, I can perfectly understand what these limits are overcome and what not . But this is not enough.
Some say that it is the fear that keeps us alive. E ' true, but not all: the fear, without the courage to fight it, keeps you alive, it is true, but it is not what makes you live ! The

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Ate Whole Bag Of Rice Cakes

'm back! E. ..

are the starting point,
or point of no return.
Cold, callous,
not feel anything anymore.
I know I have a voice, but I can not get it out
:
the scream in my mind
and nothing else.
I understand why:
because I do not learn anything, because there
relapse.
My memories do not help me destroys me
only.
You were here, still remember it:
spoke, but did not understand.
I tried to keep up with me,
miss knowing.
I was not there when you went away, but I felt
me: I could not help
,
but I can not accept.
I understand why:
because I do not learn anything, because there
relapse.
My memories do not help me destroys me
only.
If all this makes sense, please
able to understand it.
If he had not, however,
we live in vain? The

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