I am one day, one day I am, and on other days, it depends on the time I was there, I count to three, then I spend a quiet evening, even if anxiety plays a piano Bach fugue,time flies somewhere, it changes every night but it is not seen, we used to be, that the meaning is forbidden, we must find another way, is it a waste of time I do not believe,every moment can be lived with intensity, you do not have to believe that anything is possible is the freedom of the human, it may very well think that everything is dead, I'll to living a demanding position because there is no output before the end, we are at fullspeed in a whirlwind of impressions, everything is false in a sense, but the truth is hidden, only love can pass through the armor, just act believing that the time is long, it leads somewhere, an idea that extends as milk is left to overcook, now I know that is wrong because it pushes us to any put in order, while life is in shambles, it gets all over, you must jump right, rush to the left, avoiding depression, larger hope, close the door to be at home, cut the cord, agree to live fully, a test that can be one day will become true story