The 2:50 am and you get to thinking occurs. Leave the apartment window ajar for bathing the gray tones of the environment, you settle the best that is possible with a cushion lethargic, throw a couple of sighs at the ceiling and log into your drawer and never secret. And talk, and I do think that someone will be more than willing to lend his ear, out of curiosity or boredom, perhaps accidentally. Someone to watch what you write, and perhaps disguise the eternal quest of minds, more or less wisdom, shrewdness and virtue, are complementary. One no longer writes, assuming that cries out there that unless you furnish whatever reward sought. All hope, or hope to achieve our success and accomplish our mission with every word defined launched into the air. And those principles that we are jumping, passion, intimate moment in which one decides to take paper and pencil to talk to himself sometimes, like now, I come to mind as an old woman scolding for not letting me sleep.
h. Once again I was sleepless and I assume those who are vulnerable to the other side of the drawer no longer secrets. So who cares about this, but me? Perhaps in the end, but by foot, not as exciting or as liberating, not so revolutionary not so good for the other one is bare his soul in public. Do you sometimes not even pretentious? Wonder ...
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