Soul In Eats It is enough to me as. It returns me to the future to the mind, the body feels and suffers all for coming that my calm claims not to remember. Perhaps is this the reason takes that me to initiate this Lauda. The desire to surpass the nonsense of the inexperincia saving, in a piece of world, the anguish of my time. That my soul is the pure addition of all the traumas of my mind, that the cause of my evident misfortune is not more than my stranger and almost indistinct way to conceive the order and the direction of everything this I already know of color. I never denied, and at least I thought something adverse to this. I am my fears. is of the intensity of the phobia that takes me to the attitude for the arms it leads and me.

For where? I do not know Vi my mother. Another fear. That it does not have me to this little loved and less wanted me of what I have for to want me to habit. I see but it, and under the face of it perceives who me I contemplate the hollow that invites in them to perpetual pleasure of a silence where all conscience still sleeps. With my mother nothing it differs. more me aches fnebre image of that my proper one. Of custom to say that more valley the fear, effect of a conscience that sees and allows me some way to feel concerning what I contemplate in astonishment, that the joy insane of an incapable body of the minimum notion of itself I prefer this nostalgic way that alone I gave to construct.

Not me of the pleasure. It made nor me happy. It is truth that not yet makes however, does not delude.