I had promised to update 31, which then became the first, then "that sonn ... ... stanchez blurp, mangiat too ... upgrade ... Sun," and the two went away, and 3 m and l & rsquo ; stole Carranza, and now is four. Well 62 months have elapsed since the beginning of my ongoing relationship with my beautiful love. Having said this, of course, I seem to read a weather report (I know: you are missing Fabio, you are waiting for chapter nine, but no promise a future update but no .: P) but I assure you that 62 months have been so beautiful that sometimes beyond me to be passed so quickly. And bon, I could, now I realize that the relationship is so mature that I would be prepared well, you know, to go and live with Mo Chro ... maybe not!
So, new year, life boh. In the sense that I do not know what the future holds, maybe a new life, because I hope to get rid of certain weights, perhaps an old life, because I have the nightmare of not being able to get rid of, so boh life. And while I do my good intentions: to finish the exams by April (and my grandfather was a pinball ), rewriting it in the gym (I have NEVER come back next week, or risk becoming the only whale beached here over the Tyrrhenian Sea), write. Behold, I will have a swelled head (everyone knows how proud I am!), Will be that I finally picked up the pen (but increasingly my sweet love: MAC), which is now the History is always more mature, but my fantasy is to see the light. The purpose of 2010 is to give a decent draft. For sure, I think it will be impossible to finish it, but I have to oblige.
As directed by me indicate very little rude gesture in keeping with the label that characterizes all those whom I surround myself, I would add is the desire to finish the translation of Ace of Cups (see: flipper = grandfather).
Meanwhile, he returned to the cold. And finally, I think. Although my male parent (also known as "Father") reminds me of my nature of cold-blooded animals (though perhaps only a subtle reference to my speaking style Marilyn Manson), yet I love the cold. I feel alive in the cold. I can not stand the heat, and the days are gloomy, poorly lit, infuses joy. Even now, under my clothes and thick layer of fat-to-seal (quite naturally made with Panettone, Pandora, and mountains of food), I look at the Roman castles that rise in the distance in front of my house. A light mist envelops them, distorts the colors and makes them look me blue, faded, discolored from the cold. It is impossible not to love this landscape, what you watch with your eyes wide open, what you do not have to strain to look through slits, because if not thin eyes, the light will burn the retina. Mind you, do not despise the days of the Sun (no longer!), But at the same time I can not fully appreciate them: always busy me to be the wrinkles on the sides of the eyes when, thank God, God was so gracious to allow me the luxury of not demonstrate the age that I have. A pity that I can not stand the excessive brightness of clear days (and I have brown eyes!). Anyway I digress, basically I'm doing wrong to me as well. This blog post has more on the weather, the national weather forecast (there will be a national weather forecast?). It's just that I get excited, when I look out and see the low clouds that seem to swallow the mountains, the sky like a soft a wool sweater, knit with narrow thin (because so flat and equal, yet soft), I feel inspired. And if the afternoon was immobilized in this moment, I could write endlessly, writing for hours and all I could finish my novel, writing dozens of posts on this journal, end ASLS, study! (Yes, even studying!) But this moment is a moment, the time to write and is already a little darker. I know I am sad, my favorite moment of the day is already fading away, swallowed by the night. At one time, as a good owls which are (but I was not a snake to the Father?) night was my kingdom, now that I preferred. But now I begin to hate it, because it does nothing but remind me of my failures, I am full of false hopes, let me hope for a better tomorrow tricking beautifully. Tomorrow will be like today, at least until I decide to turn the page.
I decided: new year, new life.
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