somehow I wanted to keep this blog, post and post until the end of my days, but I realized that this poor blog and gave everything he had to give ... There is no way I could continue, which I do not identify at all with him, but it remains a part of me, but like everything, sometimes we need change ... And when things change is because they necessarily need to move, that is, to move forward.
am a person who needs a lot of it, to close cycles. I can not leave doors and windows open, as he would then forward. Need I say here, and close, close, close, and then see what options I have at my disposal, and then follow a new route something new ...
So I think it's time to close this cycle, even though it is the beginning and every beginning has an end, so I'm happy, there is no way to turn back, this is a brand new ending. With this I intend to shut everything behind, which is complicated but not impossible, and yet the impossible is indeed the world ... He should not have in my mind the idea of \u200b\u200bpreserving opportunities, opportunities were made to exploit them, and if we miss, there is no reason to expect them back, so goodbye to all those possibilities and all those people who missed the opportunities.
This is the end of a blog opened two years ago and some months, back in 2007 to 20 February, when I realized I needed to scream at something, my thoughts. And I realized that sometimes the internet is like a big black hole that holds and holds much mariquera a yell in the face, and sometimes you may answer, a blog that believes he was about to start college, I, a carajito full of uncertainties (which continued to be), and from there I think the habit of writing, between the lines of this blog are embodied experiences, and dreams that I hope at some point cease to be. Feelings I felt and that I no longer feel, millions of words to millions of people who never had the courage look at them in the face and tell them what I felt, thought or wanted. A blog that had a past before being created, as though in 2007 was when I appeared on the network with this blog, was in 2004 when he truly began to write on a regular basis and on different pages, desperately seeking someone told me: "Damn that good cloths, I identify" ...
met many people, some more important than others, through this blog, I learned so much, I fell in love with a million words without a face and I like that, fall in love so dumb that way, I got addicted to read blogs of others, to pry into the words of other minds, to imagine life others, and it was fine to understand at last that he was not alone, he had more millions and millions of people with the same interests that I was different from that love so differently, feel like the words of a person you do not know the However, rather than their words obviously, it touches so deeply with what he says. Build these incredible desire to seek the bright side of things, although my writing reflected the opposite side, I learned to maintain my innocence, and my identity. It is 5 years, 5 years of writing and writing, perhaps if a precise order, rather than draining my thoughts, and give meaning to my existence, leaving a trail, and that I existed, HERE IS PROOF. There are millions
post, but enough to contain millions of words that describe and show me some of what was my life at that time. Millions of self-description, in every way imaginable, autobiographical words that had my own story, not that it's a long story, but stories at the end of the day, and yet there is still much to say, the blog is I'm small, and many words were stuck in me that I have not managed to say. Also of course my feelings hidden among big words, difficult to understand because compression was not looking, my sarcasm was humble birth, and my writing evolved, the self, I, I go to something more general, to fall into the yo, yo, yo. Post more real than others, some more crude than others, some with great content but not lacking those who had nothing to say, stories of my own alter ego, the self that dwells in me and that sometimes takes over my body some of my hobbies million remained enshrined here.
Endings are so complicated, I can not say that this is the end, it is not. Not at this point, with this blog I found the love I have to write and express myself, and be fully as I want, I discovered that people love is ridiculous, and yet one sometimes suffers from not pregnant, that the persons say love is cruel, and that one suffers because it is masochistic, there are so many fine things we are so blind and not see. I fell in love with art, so I would not know how to measure it, and closing cycles have opened new doors.
I could go with this one final note, but it is better not to do it and simply say to another blog. End
PS: My next blog has no name yet. We read.
am a person who needs a lot of it, to close cycles. I can not leave doors and windows open, as he would then forward. Need I say here, and close, close, close, and then see what options I have at my disposal, and then follow a new route something new ...
So I think it's time to close this cycle, even though it is the beginning and every beginning has an end, so I'm happy, there is no way to turn back, this is a brand new ending. With this I intend to shut everything behind, which is complicated but not impossible, and yet the impossible is indeed the world ... He should not have in my mind the idea of \u200b\u200bpreserving opportunities, opportunities were made to exploit them, and if we miss, there is no reason to expect them back, so goodbye to all those possibilities and all those people who missed the opportunities.
This is the end of a blog opened two years ago and some months, back in 2007 to 20 February, when I realized I needed to scream at something, my thoughts. And I realized that sometimes the internet is like a big black hole that holds and holds much mariquera a yell in the face, and sometimes you may answer, a blog that believes he was about to start college, I, a carajito full of uncertainties (which continued to be), and from there I think the habit of writing, between the lines of this blog are embodied experiences, and dreams that I hope at some point cease to be. Feelings I felt and that I no longer feel, millions of words to millions of people who never had the courage look at them in the face and tell them what I felt, thought or wanted. A blog that had a past before being created, as though in 2007 was when I appeared on the network with this blog, was in 2004 when he truly began to write on a regular basis and on different pages, desperately seeking someone told me: "Damn that good cloths, I identify" ...
met many people, some more important than others, through this blog, I learned so much, I fell in love with a million words without a face and I like that, fall in love so dumb that way, I got addicted to read blogs of others, to pry into the words of other minds, to imagine life others, and it was fine to understand at last that he was not alone, he had more millions and millions of people with the same interests that I was different from that love so differently, feel like the words of a person you do not know the However, rather than their words obviously, it touches so deeply with what he says. Build these incredible desire to seek the bright side of things, although my writing reflected the opposite side, I learned to maintain my innocence, and my identity. It is 5 years, 5 years of writing and writing, perhaps if a precise order, rather than draining my thoughts, and give meaning to my existence, leaving a trail, and that I existed, HERE IS PROOF. There are millions
post, but enough to contain millions of words that describe and show me some of what was my life at that time. Millions of self-description, in every way imaginable, autobiographical words that had my own story, not that it's a long story, but stories at the end of the day, and yet there is still much to say, the blog is I'm small, and many words were stuck in me that I have not managed to say. Also of course my feelings hidden among big words, difficult to understand because compression was not looking, my sarcasm was humble birth, and my writing evolved, the self, I, I go to something more general, to fall into the yo, yo, yo. Post more real than others, some more crude than others, some with great content but not lacking those who had nothing to say, stories of my own alter ego, the self that dwells in me and that sometimes takes over my body some of my hobbies million remained enshrined here.
Endings are so complicated, I can not say that this is the end, it is not. Not at this point, with this blog I found the love I have to write and express myself, and be fully as I want, I discovered that people love is ridiculous, and yet one sometimes suffers from not pregnant, that the persons say love is cruel, and that one suffers because it is masochistic, there are so many fine things we are so blind and not see. I fell in love with art, so I would not know how to measure it, and closing cycles have opened new doors.
I could go with this one final note, but it is better not to do it and simply say to another blog. End
PS: My next blog has no name yet. We read.
