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Sunday, May 22, 2011
Offer Letter Commercial Lease
Just like old times.
Q
Q
uerer be a little princess by necessity entails believing in fairy tales. Imagine the huge castles pink clouds rise up and enjoy these towers that seem almost tickle the sky. Leading also to see dirt tracks through a forest, and have large eyes and able to shine to see the world. Wanting to be a princess with a pretty dress and light forces to believe in the prince who takes your hand to go out dancing, and draw in your mind the concept of love and beauty.
is a pity, therefore, that this frail lady lady fire must be lonely, torn between remembering and forgetting since the early days of eternal life. Theirs is an impossible fight.
(...)
N or know who I want to be. I come from too many things that have been wrong and I regret my silence latent state. When I speak, however, my voice sounds stupid and crisp, perhaps irrelevant, inaccurate, not correct. Sometimes I react to my usual indifference, stood him up and leads, almost caused my outrage at the routine events. In those cases I get angry with myself, I filled the soul of black air and it started to mourn thinking about things, any day, I accept without any apprehension.
I live fast, I want it now. Escape me hours, empty, and the only response I get is that it is still early. I do not walk. I see how the world laughs while I'm lying in my bed, trying to figure out what colors will be on the street, trying to conceive that there are trains that take people from one place to another, there are large groups of people hugging in a bar, there is music playing, tents erected and noisy beaches under the gaze of the moon. But I do not know walking. I want to live, run, give strength to every move and feel that now, right now, time is valuable.
Today, too, want to brag about my willpower, the ability of resistance to what "everybody does." And so, late arrival at the sites to differentiate themselves from the mass that is already there, just for the pleasure of knowing that I am still to start the experience.
For a moment, turn away the dreams of the future, the photographs that picture when you have something or when going down the street alone, forbidden fantasies, things that I learned which forced me to forget, and yesterday. I thought about the future and the past in order to ask: What am I? What do I have? I have things, of course, I have first the end of a rope that fills me beyond belief. I have a couple of ways to smile for real. And I have a small smile to someone else and for those around her. I have the ability to say, sometimes what I think.
's it.
Everything around me goes too fast for you to assimilate it, and me his sad-speed stream. I'm kind of teens in diapers, or maybe a girl with own car. Sometimes I'm too young to understand reality, sometimes I'm too old to accept what is normal. I'm not ready yet, and yet, as I get immensely later.
Sure, I realize myself as I go. But it is insufficient, excessive, modest or incomprehensible. One day my changes go too slowly, and the next, I be on top of myself.
apatheia.
My world is part of an old book.
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