Often, people like me who tend to live a life tied to the excesses, ilaria plunged into sudden moments of insanity is dissatisfaction or depressing routine. Upholstered
intimacy of a small apartment, the pain of soul and body appear more free and undisturbed, echoing in unison with the sounds of the skull's melancholy solitude.
He expects a sign, a commitment, a message, if not by themselves, out of weakness or laziness, at least from the outside world.
The wait for a change generates ambiguous expectations.
happens to find themselves spending time imprisoned in his own bed alone or as
bugs insect larvae, exploring every part of their brains, confusing dreams with reality in a state of slumber by a kind of forced automasochista syndrome.
Well, basically this
masochism is a form of overt anxiety.
I am very anxious in life, not hide it.
I can hardly keep a promise to hold their nerve to think in a rational manner even in difficult times, trust me who or what is around
. Probably if I were not so anxious all would be my best in these bad days.
say that "love" to hurt me mentally, or simply say they are very pessimistic. Whatever happens, in his prime, has a mole, something vague, imperfect, something that is not square, something that can not make me completely happy and secure.
Often this type of dissatisfaction prevail on my "bold unassailable character" of the young man who knows and wants to better enjoy their time.
Trying to address these psychological situations remain strong for my fantasies, I began to see alternative forms of life to myself inside my pseudo "box" or "shell".
be multi-faceted and silent heralds of a small benign and still full of positive energy.
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