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Nobody knows.

I need to write, though I should be studying.

of time I have plenty of them, is not a problem, so I do not think my penis end soon (uuuuh, exaggerated!).

These days, nights that seem as the sky is dark (I like it like me), I'm keeping the heart and brain in perpetual activity. And 'bad. It's all bad, but you can-not-I do not want to run away, the problem is that I am aware that if you run there would be nobody there to say "no give, remains. Maybe even five minutes, but it remains."

A couple of friends, perhaps, would say, but if I run away could not even notice it. I am good at certain - these - things. I am also good with

bear the weight of my problems without a murmur, like the mules (good comparison, eh), I'm good to bear. I'm good to resist, to be quiet, not to mention untold secrets, but I am not good at living. Why?

Or maybe life is just that?

admire from afar the happiness of others. Maybe yes, maybe it's better, who knows, maybe I deserve it.

Why should I? Well, I have no idea, but there must be a moive, no? They say that "nothing happens by chance", is it true?

Nobody knows.

Nobody knows.

None.

Nobody wants me to stay.

But nobody asks me to go away.

Nobody believes me indispensable.

But nobody believes me expendable.

Nobody hates me. None

m'abbia believe I ever loved, desired, yes, for sure. But then, what is love? Here we could discuss for hours, days, months, years. I will not, rest assured, I would not have anything to say, anyway.

Love, to me, is like an exam for which you have not studied. I'm not prepared (I think), and in any case would end badly (think you), then, even I come to give examination, even to "see how" (of course, if someone would offer me a ride, maybe).

E 'that is always about love. There is a reason, right?

And me? Who gives me a lift to go to this exam? So far I have only given an exemption, perhaps I can also pass the exam.

Ah no, true, I'm a horrible person surrounded by zombies as horrible.

are not superior to anyone, I will. And you are not superior to me, let this be known.

It 's always - and I say, always - the wrong approach to others thinking of being the best, nobody can think .

So I'm not better than you, indeed.

And, quite frankly, probably never will be.

...

Here, I knew, I was wrapped. How it works? How do I go on? What do I write? I mean, I'm thinking about too many things, many of them personally (granted, get your dicks here that you do not gossip!) and many others, however, also difficult to decipher and throw down in words. Many things that I think, maybe, I do not know if really I think. Or rather, I do not know if I agree.

epnsare you ever thought about one thing, but to disagree with that idea? Why not? From yes, you type a thought, however, will not you think, or thought you did not like. Or maybe yet, think of something, but you can not tell if that thought is yours, whether induced or not as I know, confusing, ambiguous or false.

No, why? To me it often happens, 's going on.

I'm crazy or am I a genius?

A psychologist (note: figure useless, vile, slimy-and short-parasite of modern society) with my blog would go to a wedding.

Fuck you asshole.

What a bore, I need to write, but not in the mood to live.

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I never have long hair when I was about seven years.

Having / not having long hair mean while something? The "long hair" has always been a stereotype of femininity, in seven years-when I went with Dad to take away all the barber to cut my hair-what I wanted to prove? I have no memory. I think I wanted to remove most of the memory of my childhood, I was sad or too happy? Too happy with having to eliminate all memory, not to do then a comparison with my present life-and-setirmi therefore evil? Or maybe I was really shit and then I removed?

Pippon Or maybe they're all mental because, in reality, it is perfectly normal not to remember when he had almost a fucking small? Small, not stupid. There are those who unfortunately (because I say "unfortunately" no dick) life has known too soon.

"aridaje!" I do not want her pussy, as usual I have to specify for the inept, I'm just saying that sometimes "childhood" is not the same "carefree, happy-game-ignorance (I mean the good one)" childhood is for someone already bitterness!

I'm talking about me? Who knows, I've said before, I do not remember .. Or would it be better to say "do not possess memory," I have, but do not possess. Even if you lose your memory really has it, your memory is, no one can prvartene. At most you can lose it, but it's yours. More than anything else your, your memory is you. In a sense, perhaps, "the memory that one's self "(which is not always true) is important, what is yours is your true memory. In short, it's you.

However, what I'm saying?

Here we talked about hair. serious stuff. Mica and fig pizza (that I never understood that, please, spiegatemelo. No, I searched on google, I continue to trust in men).

should always have faith in people, though they may be crap, we must have. Otherwise would be all up in smoke, everything. And, unfortunately, more alive and more I see that things are definitely taking this horrible turn.

Alteration of every human relationship, mistrust, suspicion, malice and deceit who do nothing but create situations of embarrassment and discomfort that would otherwise if they had avoided such behavior would not have even existed.

A little 'as the story of the prophecy that autoadempie.

Here we go.

We are right there.

We're falling and we are increasingly intersecting in a vicious circle from which, once entered, is (too) hard to get. I'm not saying it is impossible, but it is certainly difficult.

When I do not know whether to feel "enlightened" (so, do not overdo it), or "half-mad, like the false prophets who will knock at the door (always a Saturday or Sunday morning then, when want to do anything but hear the terrifying sound of the doorbell), but in the end I think the findings are, of awareness of what surrounds us. Shit, yes, almost all crap.

Partly perhaps it is also our fault. Our? Mia? Yours?

No, I think not. I hope.

I'm raving, right? Help me. The fact is that today is a really weird day that began badly. After I woke up to go to class (yes, it's nice to go to class, though on Friday morning), I was asleep again like a moron. And there the conscience "good victory, good at it. Take 5 in the morning, good, you would not have even gone out, you're sick and you save up for that thing. " And after a few hours, again her little voice" that thing ... but do you realize? you have to study! you have to commit! you grow! you have to go! you have to stop being the prick. "What in the end, I am really that big dick? graduating at age 21 with a great (?) vote does not count for anything? Having addressed all those issues never give up, do not count for anything? Yes , counts for nothing. I'm a shit, a horrible person. ok.

Again, "good, you're putting to the test. but you sure can do it? and if it were just another failure? and if you can not do? good, well done "Sometimes I hate

the voice is really urgent, petulant, annoying and then I also Starla very unpleasant. Throw me down too often. Never a good word, and what the hell though! Maybe it was that little voice at the age of seven years, telling me to cut off all her hair? To confirm all of my "difference in being normal, as opposed to more"? Or just to "go against"? Or maybe it was not the voice.

The voice ruined forever (not by often) all I know-when-how to pass a fabulous evening, maybe a little 'drunk, what does the little voice? the next day is there ready to ruin everything with her "why did you drink? because you were late? perhè You kissed him? because you spent that money? ". My God, what suspense!

voice, I beg you, shut up! I have to study, I read, I have to live Do not put me forward! I've had enough of my for those things.

The terrible thing is that I have that little voice.

me think.

The real question is, but I'm wrong, or has the wrong voice?

...

Again, the terrible thing is that I have that little voice.

know? ( I do not think).

Anyway, I decided that I will stop my hair cut.