Sometimes I remember stories. I had good friends, whom I have loaded (again, not sure if that is the right word), not literally, but to whom I misunderstood, I guess. And it saddens me, and I miss them. Perhaps confused about things other, fuck, I will not be subtle, just confuse feelings with others, or relationships, types of relationships. It's funny how I can build walls out of nowhere and suddenly, as I obsessed in taking people in my life because they are, they do not want to be what I imagined they would be. May we face it ad nauseum, but it hurts me to say that then there would be overbearing and those friendships may never have existed. I have a theory that the issue is simple, and sometimes you have to get up a little self-esteem with someone, and that's it. But sometimes they do not deserve worthwhile. Damn, that banal, topical, and I am writing this corny, but it is not ... What? "I keep quiet? I'm not used. It's a bit like summer, no one knows very well that there is, or what to do with it, nothing is built at that time and gets used to anything or nothing, and yet, tell me, do not you wait all the world? I begin to think that the perpetual winter is not so bad idea. Constant regret and strong roots, then all that would not disappear, in advance, we know that going away.
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