Previous life experiences.. between the art of the past and the imbalances of the future!

where are we all from all of this and !why always like dis!? Like all people, and we were created only to wor.ship. Our simplest rights dreams, since ancient times nature has imposed on us to look at life as a mirror of reality, a reality that is manifested in what we see and hear, unaware of the nature of our existence and the truth of our existence, even our physical world is almost devoid of senses, our instincts barely make us forget what was once just an illusion of sorrows. That ideological view of life that has dissipated with the dissipation of time and place is almost unreal for an era that has come to pass from the darkness of consciousness to the lights of thought from ages of time in which forgetfulness shone, we have come to live only in a reality dominated by nostalgia.. A longing for another self that has changed with the change of colors, losing a passion that still haunts us for simplicity built with the strength of the heart and a sound nature that was and still is restricting us from seeing the mirage of infinite time.

The vast majority are still immersed in the thesis of the beautiful rosy life, drowning in our own pleasures, and if we make mistakes unintentionally, we can hardly see the dispersion of the structure in one of the pens of the modern planet. Psychologically, there is no action without a reaction, like diseases and epidemics, except that they come and will come and find the way paved for the imaginations of a disturbed coward to wreak havoc on the erth, a path that was supposed to be for others, on which they see him as the master of himself depths of his walking, which is easy for the narrator, and if he narrates, he will not give the truth its due except by the movement of the stars and the marches of a coffin, a coffin dug on it, a poor who entered the house and refused, then he was arrogant and left it barefoot.

i DONT UNDERSTAND!

From the writer's point of view, he did not see life as ruin, but its end in it is destruction, as he remembers the poet's saying i see a lot of smoke, no bird flies except that it will and to it like. How we can reach it, God? In the end, it follows in the footsteps of he ancestors. They do not see our grandchildren dancing to the rhythms of the screens of their lives. In the room of the screens, you do not see a shyshy serving with contempt, seeking the satisfaction of a people who do not stand, nor do the calendars refuse. He inherited what was in it after it, annihilation. How can not see ruin? I was the dreamer one day, in it, innocent, playing, not thinking about what was in everything. He became sick, hardly caring, beaten, and did not know the meaning of caring. How did i become like this, between the evening of one day and the morning of a long day? The road in it is a crooked prison, the memories of a teenager, the dreams of a young man that are not forgotten from the calamities of the plots of worldly life and the baseness of the goal of life, from one mistake to another. We have become in it as people who do not see the value of our lives, nor ourselves, nor the gift of our existence. A path in which we were blind to the stupidity of a person who was forced to kill himself and walk on a path Life's ex have brought us down, they have their pros and cons. What has gone out of the ordinary has an impact on the person and his being in general, enough to destroy me personally. Frankly speaking, no regret is useful, no sorrow is satisfied, except for what remains of experiences that taught us to move forward and not fall again. Only remembrance and praise are for anyone other than. No bird in the sky can hardly spit. No one on earth can be helped by the howling of Eve isn't she the deaf one your Lord has refused us out of love, so that she will not be satisfied. After that, she was, and after that, a young man, and after everything… until the end of everything! so help me stand?

As for neither normal nor atonement for our sins, certainly a categorical denial, knowing how the story began to take this path from a somewhat ordinary classic to the point of boredom to a reactionary, introverted, and turbulent one. If the forces overlap, forming contradictions in thought and principle, then there is certainly no escape from the inevitability of against the current and the emergence of plagues into society, forming differences in the self that are not without annoyances, even if they are, then circumstances do not know the difference between rich and poor, for each has a balance in his hand. Do not know that life has betrayed them. Today’s living passes like a year, and if it is long, then he is arrogant, so oppressors, willed, then the onlookers in an era in which life’s saliva dripped. Whatever good it desired, may you be blessed. Do not take over a stereotyped pattern of a mentality that does not single out the lost. God’s insight does not differentiate between the servants, excepting what remains for a people over a people. You see the differences emerging as burdens on its owner, with which he holds himself accountable for what he committed. In a day, the price of submission to the immediate conflict was The price for going out of the wway away.

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The heart stoned with the force of indifference, and with it dreams have turned black in the face of life. Few are those who have seen the falsehood as a straight path that is not without its irregularities, and if they appear, they pave the way for what is greater for the story.. 

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From your delusions you flee far away, almost touching the sky. Then you realize that there are no obsessions or hallucinations. Your condition has become diagnosed by guidance. There is no doctor or specialist with the cure. You have ceased to be just that miserable, compulsive patient. You have become like an immigrant who does not know the way back to his homeland, the exile of the day of Judgment. Then we find the self not knowing my condition well. The truth is that voices have haunted me, and i can hardly bear. Then i realize how miserable this life is. How stuck the domain in the labyrinths of such head. The bitterness of this affliction almost never makes me forget it. On my way, i walk armed with fear of a very dark future, its darkness almost suffocating my perceptions of life, towards certainty in oneself and pure faith in fate and the filthy. It is almost not enough for me to find the safe haven that i have always dreamed of one day.

WHAT.US.?

Fate has dispointed us of our tomoroww after we tasted the bitterness of conflict and how difficult it is to miss your old half, your energetic self. We walked paths and we are no longer the same person after now. Everything has changed, even our openness to reality has become more immersed. What is this disappointment? Ooh my why am i like this? Why am i? This is the question. Even the imaginations have become more realistic and have a motor, imagining life without people like us, remembering the words of a friend of mine that life is not ideal as we imagine it and that it is not without flaws and that each one of us has his problems and imbalances. All this talk is indecipherable and makes me wonder about the nature of the problems and that every problem has a solution in the end. Life was not this complicated. We are the ones who made it this way sometimes being unique does not make a person a hero, but rather participation is the great victory in the end.

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The beginnings were not intended for misery, it was a legend and i was the traitor we always dreamed of happiness and here i am at the last turn complaining of a concern i am a doctor with, breaking the hearts of those closest to me and here i am, i walk no more, to be certain of what i have lost i gather and sing with it a tune that no disobedient one hears, so it expels me from my path that is dear to me i never wanted for my condition to reach such a point that i cry over my conditions i am slaves to my money it can hardly buy me a face to smile, so i become inclined to isolation i do not dew In it is an eclipse the bun does not rise brightly except i who was like a shining crescent i do not care about a day that will become absent like a lesson that is not taught in the most splendid schools we read and became chaste and if you are not like the most refined peoples, then you are a follower to them you dream of idealism, then you adorn yourself with it And in the paths of virtue, you ascend to reality Another opinion you hybridize, so you walk, but drowning in the solitude of light a year passed like a hundred In the dungeons of a room prisons, its key, the walls tighten around you every minute you breathe a gentle breeze like winter you are like the gloom of the atmosphere you don’t know which path was first for you, you are confused and never stop affecting the senses you started with a companionship that ended with a pride you are opposites in life ife is no longer an art for living it and watching it with dbd was nature It became loyalty one waits for the sunset on his balcony so did he have she as a friend a question i helped understand and i did not find a helper lost his flows are picked by the hands of the heights winds desire what they do not believe in fear nor the deeds of the bygone days i miss serving a friend who knew the matters of imagination In the atoms of the nucleus it splits with it into two halves the first died in the mind of oblivion and the second leads the edge of dest drags with to the winds of the hurricane to change finish this life sh*t the same conditions What do you expect from the impossible years of decay changed the nature of the personifications if you do not care you swim in the pool of darkness it was a price so you paid it except for the price of fate meeting your relatives is better for you than ashes days that laughed at you to make you forget the nature of the walls the walls of the same prison but from a different perspective is it not for you that you change to see the light the night sky of a year, beauty has passed over it, beauty that has not lasted long and has become the core exist. then you sing of freedom as a title, and it has come to us as it has haunted us since eternity. Conditions have become more and more difficult then i know what people aspire to, other than the whims of the winds and the fuss of names. My own paranoia had opinion that refused to do anything but mix nonsense. But i know my illness well, and i am aware of it. I do not cease to keep mountains of perceptions inside me, understanding with them the meaning of existence so the affairs of life have become. Then you develop with the passage of time, spiteful of the breach of creation and the most of them 2 in ignorance and baseness. Until this day, i am in the ward of my snipe, fearing my creation for the chastity of my fate with those of determination, and if i am afflicted, and from the hardships men are made, then we meet our God and lower in the tower of god gaze our and go ask God to purify our creation from the motherf*ع**rs of pharaoh; were they not among the point of the disbelievers? And no guidance has come when you where from me except that you are on a straight.

Diaries without homee...