there air in September .. we are in September. And I'm close to my contract season, the days are shorter and I am always a strange effect. Soon I'll be an unemployed job seekers. But now I've made the call. Here comes the night and I feel a little 'alone, without discovering all the sounds around me during the day. Silence, I see the moon tonight I saw her, almost like a mirage, the moon is one of the most beautiful things that exist . And I'm there before, helpless and alone with all my thoughts, with my ghosts are there like vultures looking for a carcass. We chase each other and feel the breath on my neck. Stove embroidery moments, tired of polishing the little things obsessively. Tired of sensitivity training with the insignificant. Grechetto decorations and squares, psychoanalysis stands out, and insights to the case. Fragments ending before it goes without saying, no links with the rest and no effect on the rest. There is a kind of me is still waiting for a sign face. I want to feel alive, listening and empathy for their sentimental songs. Dust off the Smashing Pumpkins and I feel better already .. basically I feel alive. Really. Listening to "To Sheila" The Smashing Pumpkins
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