know what I like my blog? What if someone just did not think you know what turns me on the head, would find it right here for word for word. written all over a stupid digital page a few years. A normal person fall away, pay in order not to see their dicks flat-spotted on the Internet as if they had anything "good heavens! I wonder how many people would read them, it would be too embarrassing!" . But not for me. Because seriously, as there are people who read this blog? A? Two? The second would probably be my imaginary friend. Because the truth is not nothing to fuck anyone that comes into my head, and this I say very well. But both would be the same, because nobody would read, right?
And yes, the answer is yes. It makes me angry. First because it was not. Because before there was someone who cared, because before there was someone who wrote under The most idiotic things Scazzi starting with a "mon amour" and all was well. Because before there was someone who just read something and two seconds later he stood there waiting for the explanations of this world. Now what? Now nothing, and I'm not paranoid. I ended up in this state and the fault is not mine, not my fault. There is no one now, and it is useless to regret when you read these words if you read the words and think "but I am, because I do not calculate?". Well, I'll calculation. And not a little, I calculated, I was there always, fucking always, is not now, because if you were me I would not be here writing these things, are not idiot looking for attention. You put a huge distance between us, you've made you, because I have done everything to near you, even when I should not really be there. And what do I get in return? Fucking. Silence. And those silences are not beautiful, because I know you do not like them, and that took me by the ass and criticism until his death when they are not present. Beautiful stuff. Really, congratulations. So yes, I am angry with you. Because really, there are people who treat you like shit and broke it always did and you're there to lick his ass, to feel bad for them. How many times have you been bad for me, exactly? No really, elencamele. Because I think that really can make a fist good idea. Probably you will not feel concerned even taken at this time. Why do not you know what goes through my head, because you do not care. You have someone to have fun now, and I no longer needed. And when I told you I thought it was just my fucking fear. Apparently it was not. How can God's sake? I do not do the "pussy" I say what I think, my goodness. And I'm not ashamed to say that I'm wrong, I'm not ashamed at all. Why do I care, and so if you excuse the stupid show with kisses, tivibi of cock and other of that crap that I feel totally useless. That, among other things, I had become bent while these gestures to make you understand something, but you must not essertene even noticed. And now I'm tired, because it brings me to life excessive force. No use pretending, needless to print a forced smile on his face, needless to organize, striving and hope. I'm the only one to fight this war, and we know that the battles against the walls are totally useless. You can not kill anything. So, enough, stop fighting. I do not believe anymore. To our friendship. Friendship.
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