These that are out there are my disciples.
What say I do not think, but I think if I say, in a strange mixture of sympathy and agony, both in myself apathy.
From Pathos birth, but without the live ... I only say to stay at your consciousness.
in the grass in that break I see the sky and its constellations and I can not help but think that brings me tomorrow, though not really interest me, because nothing I can do, the destiny is already written and we are all just a heap of filth and distilled atrophied vapor incest our own suicide ... There sufir god you make me! is what would an atheist in the celebration of personal resurrection, "But I would say the holy Mass crucifixion? Nothing ... Only
death accompanies me, although many still me, only one is beside me ... I love her and ask her to stay, I answer and numb so you do not understand that this lost me ... only one ... a pool.
This is my place and this is not my apology, my deconstruction, my fading, but not my destruction ... this is possibly my all, but nothing from it all there in one being ... From that time in which both run smash my thighs and my legs left me aside and leave me like you did, but with the difference that I loved him so, a philosophical death, not philosophy, just agony.
Satan ran to escape, running away from God, ran to an abandonment of everything known, was a place I do not remember anything, away from buildings, away from trees and shrubs away from those who know my face and above all for those who can flirt with my name and my voice ... In the end comes, floating, dripping and bleeding, without looking back once, even though I wanted at all times.
A place for all, a sky and earth nothing at all, is where I found it. Without God or Satan, just me and my amortalidad, waiting for something to last me to another plane, hoping to find a meaning to anything, although I can not understand my return and pray that my life was premeditated, that Words are always fruit of a constant reflection, refraction not considered mental or emotional of a person who is not born or die on their own, who breathes nothing when it should, but do not eat or sleep in any other criteria.
kill Months ago I thought, intoxicated or just mutilate, but today when my only way out is likely, otherwise I can not rather than observes, analyze and question where I am and why I, the most obvious questions that the mind can conceive, yet the only ones I make any sense right now, and not to think or who I am, only I am and I think, but unfortunately I am not. Today
just run hundreds of ...
