ON AIR: Again again again, Mina
No matter how long is that I write. It does not matter that I have not anything to write practically useless except in letters smell of eternal love and despair of fragile skin pathology. Never mind that stability is to present signed as a neon flashing in the middle of a desolate wasteland of dark and empty and hysterical panic attacks.
no matter what else? I. I do not care.
A few minutes ago I wanted to deal with different topics, I wanted to quote excerpts from Sartre's Nausea, I would even give an account of my adventures university. Unfortunately, I fell the urge. I must have contracted some form of intellectual laziness terribly self-indulgent. Not that I was never particularly strong, at any point of view. Lately, however, an amoeba would certainly be capable of a cerebral life more active and fervent than mine. It makes a better idea of \u200b\u200bmy inner landscape is, at present, desert. Strictly no cactus, which would be an overly colorful.
good thing is that me coming back upon him, and with a certain violence, the desire to read. No, actually I never went but It was a bit '- even a few years, perhaps - that I felt that craving to possess all the knowledge. It's a little 'Doctor Faustus, so called, but I doubt that I will become a necromancer. Not immediately, anyway. Although it would be a future career as well as to exclude, a priori: in the end, everybody knows that studying communication means to study everything and nothing. With a certain propensity towards the 'nothing', I dare say.
And that's it. I would like to quit smoking but can not. Or maybe it is true that I want. But I, that's for sure. Also because every cigarette is a torment, a rough calculation of how much damage will cause my poor body, so the enjoyment is reduced to a minimum. And it's all the fault of the package insert pill Diane, including thromboembolic disease, breast and uterine cancer, stroke and so on and so forth. At a guess, according to a report that damned piece of paper, a few years I would turn into a heap of potential causes of death.
Basta. This class info I got bored and prolonged contact with other human beings could infect irreparably, causing fatal damage to my personal integrity. Emigrate. I mean, I'm going home.
Ah, you. I stayed by myself yesterday and I will sleep alone tonight. Do not think I could handle it well: you know, you know I can not sleep without you.
But if I sleep on your chest
I can not stop loving you, no.
