's night. It 's always at night, is the sun that deceives us. With its light winks to our fears, we deceive to be sure, embraces us with her warm and loving affection. But the rays are only the chains that bind us to the illusion that he still has hope. Are not always so pessimistic. Indeed, they are not at all. But sometimes there is a strange pleasure to hear that thick for a moment that unites heart and mind. One can not help but to live without that pain. Subtle, secret and guilty of our fragility. Often I'm looking for, I admit. I could open the trash can with his foot to throw all the shit and then shut. But I do not. This subtle agony reminds me of being alive and often not at all. Perhaps this is, you're never quite alive. Steps the time trying to breathe a little more oxygen others. Because we are selfish, nothing to do. Go around your charitable hand, your eyes moist and strong shoulders. But all I do is done for us. I just try not to obstruct the plans of others, that's all. Then it happens that someone, just for a moment, makes you peek agony. You throw an eye and you realize that you're a jerk. You spent the time looking for that pain and realize that there are those who do not look at all but is forced to live with it. Then try with all their might to kill your egoism, and its paid by you or at least try. Try it, why do not depend on you. This stuff has so many names, I do not care to list all. I've already said too much. But when did this blog has become so personal? Of course, it always has been. Perhaps it is too explicit. These things should I make her say a rock, moon, or at most an old drunk. I went out into the open, and fuck if it's cold. This sun is just an illusion. And it is still night. Shame to waste it, but maybe the nights spent thinking are never wasted.
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