But changing a little face ... Tired of avvenierismo of hypothetical disasters, unsolved mysteries, doubts of ....!
Against all reasonable doubt back on track, dented, destroyed by a hard to find time in myself, as well as breaks and possible future.
between melatonin and insomnia find the taste of the spoken word to say, to understand, to vent, to build what they neither bricks nor those who manage to do: concrete without soul, soul in the wind thoughts, feelings, stories messy ...
but I almost returned aimlessly: a dharma bums, only to blaze a trail without form, neither definition nor limit.
I almost screamed in return for silence.
Beyond any music or noise. Li where temper contrasts, calm down chirps and you only hear the harmony of canceling shouted but whispered word is not clear, gentle strokes on the lines of a keyboard ...
I almost back ....
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