Claudication More Condition_symptoms

Mi fermo, prendo un bel respiro e vado via

Stubborn I type a few words but almost immediately the gate each letter. I realize I have a craving to write and every issue seems trivial. Maybe it's not what I should do to vent, to get rid of this sense of melancholy that I can not to put aside. But it is my only weapon. A defense made of thoughts that belong only to me and no one can decipher, even those who should. I hide behind a finger, and I know. Or rather, I admit to myself every now and then, as is happening tonight. Tomorrow almost certainly will take up my life, same as always, that "should be" and I forget what I have inside now. And now I would leave everything here, throw this computer out of my window and go outside. But never to return. I feel like I would not live fully. I feel that many things will never be known. But time has expired for the memories. It must necessarily bring with it what I feel. I can no longer afford to meet my needs whenever I wish. I can not emphasize concepts that have no meaning now. Just provocations, just use verbs in the conditional. What matters is the present. So just in the past just to whether, perhaps, to wonder. Now that may not be a farewell. A goodbye to that idea, that bet on that promise. A farewell to what was and what it is when your memory takes me back. But what "is" this is an impossible. A slide that fast. So what can not be. And what is it? Well, I know. I have foreshadowed. I. I did not want to think about tomorrow but vivermi this. That I never know what will happen. But certain things need to get involved and take risks. Point across. An important person has taught me that it is not fair to deprive ourselves of something that you can potentially do. Life is one. It 'better to say: "I am wrong, I made a mistake" rather than asking for more "what would happen if I did?" and they will never get an answer. I prefer the latter paper. But I actually play my cards right? I do not know. I know I was wrong to judge those who use them. I wanted to use all that, rather than keep them to himself. But it's exhausting even to talk about it. I would say "bla bla bla." And maybe when I say, it's as if you were to blast myself. So I put this latest point, and fuck ...