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undelivered mail.

A mail was not sent (but it was published):

write is to establish the innocence that I lack, the sins we commit, the ideas of they fled.

fear I have, for several days I have fear. Perhaps best of all ways to settle our past more hostile. I think it's necessary for you and me trying to start again, but this does not exclude our mutual affection, it is clear. Just feel the need for you, sometimes I feel so alone, despite having a sea of \u200b\u200bpeople on my side, and that loneliness is mostly in solitude, you gain understanding. No one understands the intricacies of my head ... I have fear of counting. For days I have the need of peace, friendship, sincerity to you.

I have longing for freedom, air, friends, no commitments, no more. Not because the rejection itself, but simply because I want to be mistress of myself, my actions, my breaths, words that you can devote, the joy it can cause. I feel nothing bad for you, nothing in any way romantic or promising, but I get tired go to question what I, being me, I can not cope without question.

sincerely believe that it is better not to write, I think that dark things more when I do, because in my mind many times nothing is clear. Today I only know that you need, and I need myself. I know nothing else, do not promise nothing, I desire nothing more.

Unless you read me, come back now.

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huirte.

Sometimes what is not remotely possible becomes a delicious temptation. If it passes soon be somewhat likely and closer to becoming part of the immediate reality, you end up scared away.

*

Sometimes I get scared.

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When he is just a cosmic objects lost and lack of support. When wriggle between phosphorescent nebulas, the universe made of colored dust, blowing fog over orange streetlights, crawling with sticky feet and the intricacies of exactly twelve o'clock, the darkness that emerges clearly through the cornices of buildings, the roofs of straight lines and simple shapes that intertwine and magically form a grotesque image of heaven and hell step. In those moments get recognized on the face that projects mysteriously the window on the plaster of the wall. And every time it becomes more difficult to maintain that look cross-eyed.