Several times I was suggested not to write pseudo post - analytical, in which I investigated myself and my moods, my changes and so on. But yesterday I realized that there is a reason behind everything we or, upon my asking that is. Chiara had accompanied on a Courts to buy a sandwich, and say: "Sometimes, I think of having to put on a diet, lose weight, do so many muscles and fuck, go fuck a lot."
Hence , a discussion, my romantic side is fruit and I can not see me in a story "serious" romantic love, all I know corny and repulsive. I have a rejection. Too many stories of love, "I gravitate more and more I feel the impatience, not envy. Everything appears to me child, sickly and do not understand why. Why are no longer romantic but cynical? What has changed? Reflecting on this, that I do not write more poems, that I did not move furniture or things at home, heralding the spring, I have a different relationship with my parents - poor, contemptuous - inflicted against them and they I sometimes like shit. What's wrong with me more? Why do I feel broken inside? It was the death of my grandmother, a full year now, or employment on 22 October last year, or what? If that means growing up, I also I want to flee the island is not there.
Just tonight are particularly down. But it is nothing more than a moment. Does not differ much from a person who does not think keeping busy and just as he thinks strikes.
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