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Apita sometimes when you've already decided to write the next article and dedicate it as an argument. I know for sure the content of the post tomorrow but I am here, comfortably dressed for bed and sitting in front of my faithful friend, too: the PC. And although I do not feel the need to discourse for something in particular, feel that to leave your fingers on the keyboard. Fill the time it takes me into the arms of Morpheus is not difficult. From the moment you get home by train at 17:20 of the hill when the members will pass on the bed no more than four hours. If I were to dwell on the budget or time to breathe better, to feel a breath of life, well, I would end with the depressed. But every time I grab the jacket (but the time never wear any clothes?) And store it with all his might. What I feel in these situations .. Well, I can say that these are the moments where I like the taste of the warmth of home. The board, however, comes alive, the arguments are sometimes the same and this too because of the undersigned. As I have often said, the new storm that overwhelmed me in the last quarter was and is quite violent. Stuff to fill sheets of rivers or stun my poor parents. E 'with them at table, that I "enjoy" to tell. It 's a Tuesday that turns off wrapped in a pleasant and reassuring silence. Working days sometimes accompany you until you rest your head on the pillow, and sometimes remain there, locked in the office. And you have the distinct feeling of being human and alive as well as used and stressed. So this post is a demonstration that more concrete as you grab the time, how it translates in his favor, clearing the mind through some written word. I like to go straight off, even if by doing so I find it difficult to give an order precise thoughts. Every morning on the train crossing the same eyes, the same tired phrases and it is normal that you find in that "bad town" a "halved". Is tired faces, but people still alive, I guess. And me? I confess, are far from the times of the zombies and dark circles. Not that it's a flower, that's for sure. But time is telling me that my friend is always, as long as I persist in wanting at all costs on my side. I will be faithful partner only if he learns not to expect too much to grasp at the right time. There was once a boy who was afraid of his shadow, the time spent unstoppable without him knowing what to do. Now he has the feeling of dominating, to do what is best for him. How is it possible? Matter of time. Morpheus arrive.
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