- "I want to receive as a Christmas present. Possibly a bit 'before. A kiss."
...
- "Honey, you know that you can not. = (Search for a holiday gift to give you more attention. ...
2:48 a few days later. Current mood? TORN!
Thought fixed. Nostalgia for those few words, as telegraph that were tinged with blue, gray-black that is my world.
I blame the usual faults. I pay the same mistakes, which, although often seem to not want me ever committed to the right lessons. Errors without morals.
exactly the same tears I cry. The same salt in the wounds re-discoveries are sometimes equal to those children who enjoy remove the crust from the scraped knee a few days before. Even I can feel the burn of alcohol. I too feel the same unbearable smell. Listening
consoling words. Rotten inside. It is a process of returning the ashes. I'm not a phoenix, I do not know from the ashes reborn. I can not.
I try to keep busy, to distract me. I know it's a waste of time, the mind sometimes does not seem to listen. Anyway, it is true to the heart can not control.
should myself much easier because the grueling this ungrateful indifference and silence. I'm not made of steel. I have a weak heart. Or maybe not have it any more.
I feel immensely far away. Yet there is only 32 minutes by tram. How can you fill this immense distance?
I feel helpless, defenseless, unarmed. I stop breathing. The walls of my arteries thicken, pemettono not any more gas exchange. Dyspnea-A contract. I have air hunger. I hunger for you.
It's cold. Froze the bones. I need warmth.
am a prisoner in my ivory tower created by those damn feelings. Protected in a glass case where I did not want to be asked.
Protected from what? I'm the worst enemy of myself. It is not very smart to leave at the mercy of my rival. It's like leaving a hostage in the hands of his kidnapper, is like being trapped in a burning building. Any way out is blocked.
am prisoner of my love for you.
Please, moved from there, let me at least the emergency exit.
- A PB damn my jailer.
