The PSU has already been rendered, the cards already played and now only have to wait if I can win for them. In the meantime, Christmas is coming, and believe me, I say with all my heart: I prefer to wait for Christmas to do so results.
right. Let's face it. Christmas is not for everyone. And if you face it too, is completely understandable. Pinos "plastic adorned with red and gold balls and lights? A fat, bearded old man blowing down our chimneys? "People singing in the streets? So much love in the streets and many hugs from loved ones?
Yes, Christmas is a difficult period. Especially for him.
lived alone for several years not by choice but because, inevitably and inadvertently left running, slowly, alone in this world. The years seemed to touch those hands just as distracted rub the bars that appear on the road, while those who once loved and to tell the truth, still loves, the time the beat with the force with which an earthquake shakes the earth or to stop the tears so they do not emerge. Thus, as the flower apart little by little, he was staying alone, while the petals around the wind was going wherever he was not destined to come yet.
Loneliness does not sit well with any man because there is natural that our race is alone. And this man, this old (because if it is really old), what was it was just distorting slowly into a robot that person has little, plus some feints, remaining only feigned, smile when Birds are chirping too loud, and a slight twinkle in his eyes when the television screen that never goes home, there are scenes of movies that remind you of what once was.
But Christmas comes alive only to die again. His lethargy becomes a permanent state of alert, like a creature ready to catch a long dam slippery, you realize that what you are looking for so long to find again is just an extension of the arm, and suddenly captures everything that happens around him. And he realizes this rejuvenation because each note of the carols and laughter every joy, every bell in the church and every flash of red light, he slips into the depths where every bullet that pierced his body tissue, or, moreover, because everything that hurts where no bullet can go.
This Christmas is no exception. Just the fateful date drew near, the bones began to ache and eyes to tears. In fact, he says, this Christmas is worse than before, while the window rain drops were quite lost end his short life. Perhaps it was because now the time had beaten a little stronger. Perhaps because the windows of his house were too worn out and let in more than all those things that hurt you by this date. Perhaps because it took that morning Mokaccino filled him with dreams that subsequently went bankrupt. Or perhaps simply because today the light was cut off and your TV will inevitably be extinguished.
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