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I think I'll lose my head ...

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Today I woke up a week of hell. Of days and nights, too, embedded in the bed.
No I could not get up. I could not.
even yesterday and ate.
I will change the medication. Again, this is not new.
It's funny. Do not know what I have but I tried the whole pharmacopoeia.
Why, it's more expensive, "go to the root of the problem? Or get up to the ass of antipsychotics, antidepressants, mood stabilizers or benzos?
Time passes and everything revolves around, everything changes, people change and evolve and I'm still stuck
.
Madness and me.
I and madness.

Sometimes I think that that percentage of disability give me what I should take for clarity, to endure.
On hold.
On stand, and stand there and stick a gash in his veins.
time I'm filthy rich, I'm idle, I'm lazy?

I am ... ... I am very tocapelotas
,
I have a thought too critical of things,
and the truth is that I wonder too much and usually get no response.
may seem that I have a huge ego but that is chicken,
road, walking floor, head bowed, hands in pockets,
but bah!
In that cocoon, you are given! 00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

is difficult to remain sane when all you are treated as a pig "00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

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hard to say depending on words. Why
is well and things. Why
abuse the situation could lead to rupture.
head could lead precisely what we are trying to safeguard. Protect
, like a cutting from a plant to unprecedented
worth more spare no effort to grow.
of a wall cracked, born and born outbreaks of weeds.
The weed grows in the most inhospitable
demonstrating that life is gaining ground late when all around are phenomena
effects. Okay

dream.
This well go further. Dream
said, it's free.

But today, I would not venture to go beyond where I
inertia creeps, providence or whatever. Okay so

.
not ask for more.

No. I do not know but it would be tempting to bad luck,
and often asked myself when I've been well

what if, a sliver more?
From experience,
Bad response ...


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resist or not enough of the city / Alcampo welcome!

I leave town. This really circumspect useless cement buildings of pit

this sky high and that sometimes lacks a bit of blue and has plenty of trails

plane. Hate

cries yes, yes give the cars honking as they travel through the streets and trusses

of the city. Almost

my eyes stop at every point each time under center.

These claims, the same lights ...

If I go for smaller districts often pass me the same thing.

Son "stickers repeat" ...

and its people, people This Barcelona, \u200b\u200b

each time I feel more distant ... Slick

all, so in capped in mp3, fear of tripping

bother the person next door.

need air, I need mountains.

wet ground need to breathe, not to see beyond what the mountains give

or field.

I want to see stars and not hear

cars .. wake with a start, while dreaming

licorice.

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raining. It rains. The city gradually fed and clean your gutter ...
Yesterday
before dinner, and talk about diets and why one is better as fat or not, lose those kilos
more, I noticed ti.Quedé caught by some moments ..
that hair on your chest sticking out of the shirt.
I felt more a part of the conversation identified. That if protein diets, if we spend sugars before fat when we do sport ...
but did not intervene.
You completely ignored me. fijabas you in girls cross legged ...
not care .. so .. well .. let it be
and finally, after dinner, and drink some wine, succumbed to the dream ...
while they, speaking of something momentous
... Enlivened by the music of Kusturica.

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The eye still retains the brightness that gives life. However
has a point enervated,
blue eyes. Sidewalks.

curly hair. An amber color.
cascades down her shoulders.

She walks the streets of the city.
walked and walked, without a purpose.

Nightfall on the cavity and darkness stains all while hundreds of lights envelop
Beth.

Beth cried.

Beth is lonely.

afraid. Anxiety
.
Anxiety eats his fists in the evenings after dark ...
So take a walk aimlessly.
She and her music.
Your music player, the city in half, given the immense vastness
and her.
When walking enough, Beth
take bus number 34.
is mounted on it and goes to his neighborhood, but only
quieter, extremely single ...
wondering, too much
unanswered.

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still do not know where this post will curdle.
Just click. Click
little notes. Setting the lyrics and I'm preoccupied with the noise they make my fingers
to make the letter A or the N or the Z. ..
Today was a good day, those who, as I have said, it is worth recalling at bedtime.
To assimilate all the good and not miss anything. Guai
Everything is happening to you, so why not remove him,
and guess what will come clear desire strongly. With great strength ...
Today it costs nothing to outline a shy half-smile.
If you had asked what has not been the case, why do not you have moved through the center of the city, but
if you had asked someone begging pennies, probably would have given ...
and now the evening .. I remember, when plugged into the iPod this afternoon (the most brand new and groovy than its predecessor), sounded "Lucha de Gigantes" with Nacha Pop, some words, outdoors, in a radio program ...

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This song joined two pieces of thread ...
hung about him too.
Nobody would one day be broken.
Forever ..
Inevitablamente.
"Sunday Shining" ...
have been twelve or thirteen, and again the sea of \u200b\u200bmemory, as usual everything back the sea, the gristle ...
I could never remember or re-listen. I found it unpalatable.
F. Quaye But again today.
I am left with the piece of thread between my fingers, again. But today I
balance which meant late 90's, my life path,
and not a "sunny Sunday, now,
with some more gray hairs in his hair, and half smile
you miss a see.

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The Happy Home orphanage children playing in an afternoon. Never

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spiraling feelings. Maelstrom

all traps.

Fear.

Fear.

Fear.

intense emotion.

not go, but with me, as a cheap cologne.

Anxiety. Anxiety

..

sometimes I have trouble coordinating, stuttering, heart beats strong.

But it's worth a moment of fleeting peace.

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E n extreme duality Sorry ...
in all this we are connected ...
while you dream,
I'm awake.

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I have no desire to write but I have to empty, I get all this shit
cockroaches and poison running through my veins corrupt drug.

This afternoon, died in February, sounds like Nirvana, Cobain's voice seems to me a lullaby, a lullaby perfect, perfectly realized intercourse.
"Come as you are" ...
is as if they were playing for me, for this dead dog to me. Lost
any hive dirty floor fucking city of any country.

delirium is exacerbated if for a moment think about drinking and smoking ..
but I do not need ...

I have enough with the taint of filth that builds up in this house,
perpetual silence,
medium blinds up, and some butt
another immaculate in an ashtray lost
to go crazy.

Or to go into another universe,
the weakness of the total,
that of negligence, float
what if,
in all this,
having lost for a moment or not,
charge of your life.