Demo Of A Woman Brazilian Wax

closed door

I get up in the morning without being able to rearrange ideas. The sun is out by a deafening noise and there is no switch that can turn it off. I always get out of bed with the usual face. The gestures used to take me to wash, perfume, clothes. The reason why the world is today, will face trouble. If it were not him, and his threat of cagarmi in the world would not come home even see it. When I go down the stairs I always hope not to meet any tenant downstairs. Walk with his head down like a maniac smoking among high school students in miniskirts laughter, comments, and shooting straight. I almost always different ways to move from one part of the city, but always I stop in front of the car park of Via Dante. A beggar them is always steady with his misery. The step hugging and smiling for the first time. Not that there's nothing funny about him is that the desperate souls have a different solidarity. Do not try to paint reality with a new color, simply smile.
spend hours unnecessarily concentrated reading useless books that I read out of duty. I repeat myself for a little, and then I can fly away. But the hope of a different life is gradually diluted over the years that bitter show my face. I think back to past loves, I do it with tenderness, compassion, anger. Whenever a loss, a wound suffered as desired or not ever heal.
The voices of passers-by are always so full of security, of excitement that I sink deeper into the solitude of listening.
I speak little, less and less, and I always look for a partner that does not at least shake his head too empty and the little that I have inside. But the enthusiasm of easy dialogue fades to every comma, every time when I catch my breath and start over with the rest of the sentence. That is not my speeches that seem only half are. This evening I found Claudia
online, I asked her if she wanted to see us for a few minutes.
"Step in your home with Trouble"
"Only five minutes but I have to study"
"Fastest" I say.
Claudia has lost more than my soul, but rejects any arm's length because it must have distance too. Often refuses even mine. I can not communicate what I feel, the affinity that should unite us more and vanishes in a short silence, and the attraction I feel for you continues to be suppressed forever.
I am convinced that tonight will be different, I leave home to many of my attitudes, my personality, I will go to her naked as I am with my fears, but especially with this desperate need for affection that only those with real soul torn can give. Trouble jumps off the couch, took the ball in her mouth and wags his tail. Poor helpless victim of my Paturnie. With a smile I hope to launch the street, walk the road that quickly separates me from seeing it. I attack this conversation as if the only goal in my life. And after all it is. Supero desolate streets and traffic jams of people scattered. Jump loneliness as dead branches and run towards that bell. A
5 steps from the door of Claudia I get a message, you are.
"Forgive me, but I have a really bad night, we do another day?"
"I'm in your house" I am writing. "Ok, one more time" in the second message.
I am in front of that door, and what little strength that I did get from them is gone in a second, 5 steps away from hope. I do not know how to find the strength to go home. Trouble wags, who just wants to throw the ball.