Usually
cycles always come back to my life, and theories constantly revolve. After days of having the adrenaline spending, and sleep to recover, simply fell by the time I think I have. Unfortunately I was raised in recent years, create a power vacuum and the self-destruct so that words may sprout in a devilish.
"Write like hell" ...
Much of my self destruction is based on a few minutes, a few sentences, some note, a song, some cigarettes. The sit on the stairs, waiting for the bad thoughts evaporated with the smoke, to hate your own existence and the fact of just being. To live to be. Thinking things friously and realize new things stop. Only live to be.
The things you can enjoy for a long period it's impossible. This bad education, cruel and realistic thoughts that only happiness is seen as isolated moments. Denying things to come when I'm alone, I curse over and over again. Accepting loneliness. And to deny that I have the opportunity to stop being so.
"in a righteous life, sadness builds up here and there ."...
"In recent years, I continue without any hope, just to see what I can not reach ..."
"Without really knowing the sources I confirmed this, followloss.
I refuse to come when I ask the question "What kind of life I live?"
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