I would say that the title is appropriate for what is happening. I had already told not to write anything a bit 'to keep it for me, a little' because we know that "when you write things become true, real and tangible." I'll try to do more self-persuasion, and I repeat ; sometimes this mantra ( @ )
Writing instead. Writing, rather. Foul, foul, and when you can not do without, when you feel anxiety, what do you miss your breath, calm down and that only by putting it to iscritto.Perché then later, when that thing came out of your hands, no longer yours. I do not defend, not listening, and if you re-read, and love her schifala together, because you realize that you have not told you everything, even if everything has already been said.
because it's easy when you are away to deny, to pretend that there was. The memories slowly slip away from your head and you stop to think about it every second, minute, moment of your life. You devote to them, you focus on trying to focus the attention of your existence on other things, other people. But then, when There is virtually as good as you review everything in the foreground and you understand that you are actually trying to oppose a current that is stronger than you. And I wish I could close my eyes and drown in the stream without resisting letting go more. It would be great. You will return rivevere billion times those feelings that brought you to have the soul turned over and upset and I thought I had died down. And would a thousand times more evil.
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