Learn To Snowboard London

Remember, sometimes by accident.


I do not know what. I do not write from Christmas, since that fateful Christmas has a lot of things connected and disconnected, no day is never an easy day. Maybe every single moment has value unthinkable. Today. From the kitchen
music years ago ... Tiromancino , I open the mailbox and found two symbolic message by.
In the first, Michael, a friend "virtual" site www.viaggiareliberi.it I attach my own mail in 2007, first in South America, and sends me a quick chat. I grumble to myself "what a strange ..". Second
mail, apparently spam with virus attachments, instead of opening it, I find an e-mail itself, in a French just sketched, My friend's Seifuddin Algerian, known in bizarre conditions in Istanbul in 2007 .. he. "How are you brother? All right? Have you forgotten me? I send you a couple of pictures of me .. "Three pictures of him in Istanbul, emaciated face, hair rapati. Strange look.
Boh. Thoughts
overlap. And if I gave him my passport, what would happen? What is now in Greece? Borders, laws, people caught between worlds close but unattainable.

I open messenger, there are two windows of offline messages.
First window: M. "Mbar". Think about it, already .. it seems so long ago ..
Second, Patricia, from Argentina: "hello darling how are you? I left the man with whom I was, I cheated that bad liar, I had a child with him but if he is taken. I still love my little, however, Ana, who is well and is an earthquake. I kiss you. "

What can I say, what to think, what to do.

Immobilized before the reality knocks.
always happens to me, constantly, every day I would say.

later in life, or are they to enter the mine, intensely alive for days, weeks, months, these "passions" and then something always happens. Rupture, starting a fight and everything goes to hell.
Most of the time because of me I admit.
Sorry.
fear of commitment, to address unions because potential sources of postings, I do not know the source of this bad habit, the fact is that I still carry with me whispering to myself the same chant "this is the last time .. the last."

many things left half in the street there without a reason, fled via evanescent.

I even want to give incomplet .....


S.