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
blogghetto of Paoletta 
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