For a long time not listening to friends, the night you fall asleep like a rock, but you've forgotten what you eat, you are often late and over because you flushed, you feel always in a mess, maybe you smell more than usual, read every night the same two pages of the book on the bedside table, ipersogni, sometimes you can not breathe or you'll turn your head and above Scazzi: Scazzi saying things you would not want, Scazzi doing things that you preferred not to do, Scazzi at work, you're a ship that water from all parties.
Here if you share at least four of these feelings, you, like me, you're exhausted.
And you know what is a bad thing? And 'that in reality, what is missing is not the time, as is often the stain to yourself and others. Threw out the sentence as a shield pretectum IR: "I'm sorry but I have not really had a moment." Oh yes! How not? E 'for all that, right? Bales. Lies. Lies. Blowjobs. Lies. Bullshit. The truth is that you can not do, that you, as a set of body / soul / mind can not do it to keep up with galloping horse race you've chosen as the pace and edge of the tilt, you only think about how stem the damage, to limit as smudging, to how to save energy waiting for that indispensable return to normal. And I think that would be enough extra space. It is time that you need, you need space. A mental space where to maneuver to the thoughts, where to park without stress problems and distill one at a time, the space where along your way undisturbed.
See, I do not find it. It will also be inside of me but I must have lost the address. And if even that can help me, not me is to just put me on hold. Possibly put up without Vivaldi La Primavera though.
And as a wise across the river, I am sure will come. Something will come.
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