within the meaning of death there is no room for hope, so why be enjoyed with delicious chocolate mousse without the bitterness of mouth a tomb, not the sweet than all the concerns, with a small glass of wine is the assurance for an hour without worrying about the war in the world, AIDS in Africa or prison in the East, my neighbor is my misery by putting his TV too loud, I forget in taking a second glass of wine at your background I am a shape that reminds me of the sweet feeling of oblivion at the corner of the road to the attention of the stupid human condition, like that other than to flow into the water from the oblivion that is always in the middle of the bed of the memory of the world, the old password without justification to exist, these are the people who complain about not being in the eye of providence, a gift from which no one knows where that would resolve all issues, even the hyper-sophisticated unconscious condition not to take the lead on a Sunday at the Mass is a way of seeing things in their place, I am not unhappy to come to the conclusion that any attempt seemed risky not to say