Abbiamo deciso di pubblicare oggi qualcosa di forte in seguito ad una mail arrivataci.... speriamo che forse tra voi qualcuno leggendo questa storia possa rispsecchiarsi e capire che la via dell'autolesionismo non è mai quella giusta. Se riesci ad oltrepassare l'istante in cui dici : Non cè la farò mai, solo allora cè l'avrai fatta perchè è passato. é una storia di speranza. perchè la speranza non muore ever. We are officially allra fruit
"I suffer .. I suffer every moment when I feel my heart beating, I suffer every moment that you're there look at me and judge me, I suffer because perhaps it is the only What I've learned to do and that life has so far been able to teach me. I suffer because I have not alternative, and now it seems to me the only way you can try something else, something that makes me feel alive in a life dominated by ' enslavement of man, what then? This was a long one asks me, I know the answers but I will not see them because for once I am just like everyone else, as do the ostrich putting his head in the ground and turn a blind eye, ignorance and enjoy my life pieces instants of happiness in real life stolen from the fiction of a dream I call life. People who have been, are many, too many different and unique, like the pain I felt and who touched and that I still carry in my heart ... ... suffering a lifelong companion who, like scars come in part of our existence. Every moment of life that we lived, we felt every sensation, every thought we had, every feeling that we tested, are part of what appears to be the film of the life we \u200b\u200bare living, like a script that creates the 'infinite mystery that pervades and directs all ... fate, destiny, God ... we're just puppets, as I am in now I'm in the throes of a frenzy as the mystical key that makes me beat me and throw down some thoughts which are not yet certain, and I do not even know what I mean or where I'm going. I know I have a universe of colorful mysteries tortured to tell, but sometimes words are not enough to communicate what I feel and what I mean ... the pain of looking in the mirror, rediscovering great and having lived a life that you wanted. I would describe the pain you feel when chilling after vomiting, and repeated several times with that finger ravenous that has made its way in you should only be conducted by it to hurt because you do not agree, you redial, your breath and calm the redness of your cheeks, dry the tears from your eyes that are not made to cry, but only to smile at people at the sumptuous lunch in the main course you are, you and your pain, the suffering of your blank stare, in your trifle 'be different and can not be like them. All this and much more, fill their insatiable appetite, of which only what you can fill. I would like to run for the hills green than I ever dreamed in my dreams and I've never been able to walk for fear ... duty, because I should have the courage to make my choices because I really wanted, but really choose? Or is it just an illusion? We are also now choosing to read or write the words I'm writing or are just involuntary movements that we perform mechanically? maybe we're born that way ... Choose life ... "
Monde de Reve
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