.
Farmville
Plato was just a jerk.
E 'his fault that everyone is so convinced that it is enough to fall in love to feel complete. The androgynous
: that huge bitch.
Thanks, Plato, with your words you invented the loneliness and you did it all by myself! Congratulations!
Did you just write a book over 2500 years ago to destroy millions of men and women. Good job, congratulations again.
No longer able to enjoy life after your "Symposium," are all too busy looking for their obsessively half. For them, nothing else matters.
You were a genius, you gave them something to rage, and we fell for them in full. All
to seek love, even love, because to them it is written capitalized.
Allocchi.
more I can not even feel sorry for you, you're really too stupid.
But I do not fool me, you're not old inchiappettafanciulli else: I do not think so.
what I think otherwise.
I think each of us is complete before you begin. It is love that breaks us, not vice versa.
Let me explain: if you fly, and then, only after, you go in two.
The trouble is that this split makes you happy, extremely happy, because you think you're finally one.
Really you as far removed as there may be from one, but so you will not even notice, you're too involved in distorting your feelings to make them coincide with the idea that you love.
Until one day, those two units which rend you do not break something and in less than no time you find yourself in three.
Three instead of two, and you continue to believe that love will complete coglionazzo poor.
No matter which of them was to break down further, you can be or can be other things, the thing that matters is that your unit begins to be torn to pieces with a chainsaw, yet continue to resist, or rather, to insist. That is your half and must remain, gosh.
And go on like this for a while ', until at a certain point, when you least expect it, those three be back in two.
Think long, but do not come again. You know you've lost something, just do not know very well what it is. It 'a little more than a feeling, but you feel uncomfortable.
Thus, in less than no time he goes back to being one.
In the background is just what I wanted , think, trying to do with it for a reason.
poor beast.
How do you not understand that the one you are now, not he has nothing to one you were before?
It 's like you're missing something (a piece, a smile, a song, a movie) to be able to make it back to be the one you were. Or maybe you're too full of something, in order to clear the table.
One is that you have become lame, dirty, biting, looting and what's more it snows. It snows everywhere.
Suddenly you realize how foolproof the people, understand what you're missing the flight and then not give it to you.
You shuffle around the city, just as only a crowd can be, in line with the rest of two to three.
makes no sense to repeat that all is well, because it does not. Minds. All you do is lie yourself. The accounts never return.
You're a donut with a hole in the middle.
a spasm, only a spasm, nothing more.
Meanwhile, the fun and love goes under 'study balcony.
looks like the wind and then go back, never stops, except to say hello, shake his hand and say goodbye.
And I'm here for days, to plant seeds in the fields of Farmville, trying to figure out what was the exact moment when I split in two, to become this void that I can not fill.
Plato crap.
It takes a lot, but a lot of patience, to be able to give as food to concerns, to cultivate a peaceful solitude, away from your clamor.
74 richieste di amicizia.
Sono tante, cazzo.
Il mondo è pieno di gente interessata a farsi i cazzi miei.
No, non accetto più l'amicizia di nessuno, ho deciso.
Voglio una bacheca vuota.
Come i miei campi su farmville.
Oggi è proprio dura, dura come non lo è stato mai.
Però adesso sono pronto.
Adesso finalmente sono pronto. Lo so. Lo sento.
La verità è che in amore non esistono ricordi, soltanto lunghi addii stupidi, crudeli e dolorosi.
Durano una vita e fanno male.
E' come morire ogni volta.
Solo che poi continui a vivere.
Enter or leave?
E 'his fault that everyone is so convinced that it is enough to fall in love to feel complete. The androgynous
: that huge bitch.
Thanks, Plato, with your words you invented the loneliness and you did it all by myself! Congratulations!
Did you just write a book over 2500 years ago to destroy millions of men and women. Good job, congratulations again.
No longer able to enjoy life after your "Symposium," are all too busy looking for their obsessively half. For them, nothing else matters.
You were a genius, you gave them something to rage, and we fell for them in full. All
to seek love, even love, because to them it is written capitalized.
Allocchi.
more I can not even feel sorry for you, you're really too stupid.
But I do not fool me, you're not old inchiappettafanciulli else: I do not think so.
what I think otherwise.
I think each of us is complete before you begin. It is love that breaks us, not vice versa.
Let me explain: if you fly, and then, only after, you go in two.
The trouble is that this split makes you happy, extremely happy, because you think you're finally one.
Really you as far removed as there may be from one, but so you will not even notice, you're too involved in distorting your feelings to make them coincide with the idea that you love.
Until one day, those two units which rend you do not break something and in less than no time you find yourself in three.
Three instead of two, and you continue to believe that love will complete coglionazzo poor.
No matter which of them was to break down further, you can be or can be other things, the thing that matters is that your unit begins to be torn to pieces with a chainsaw, yet continue to resist, or rather, to insist. That is your half and must remain, gosh.
And go on like this for a while ', until at a certain point, when you least expect it, those three be back in two.
Think long, but do not come again. You know you've lost something, just do not know very well what it is. It 'a little more than a feeling, but you feel uncomfortable.
Thus, in less than no time he goes back to being one.
In the background is just what I wanted , think, trying to do with it for a reason.
poor beast.
How do you not understand that the one you are now, not he has nothing to one you were before?
It 's like you're missing something (a piece, a smile, a song, a movie) to be able to make it back to be the one you were. Or maybe you're too full of something, in order to clear the table.
One is that you have become lame, dirty, biting, looting and what's more it snows. It snows everywhere.
Suddenly you realize how foolproof the people, understand what you're missing the flight and then not give it to you.
You shuffle around the city, just as only a crowd can be, in line with the rest of two to three.
makes no sense to repeat that all is well, because it does not. Minds. All you do is lie yourself. The accounts never return.
You're a donut with a hole in the middle.
a spasm, only a spasm, nothing more.
Meanwhile, the fun and love goes under 'study balcony.
looks like the wind and then go back, never stops, except to say hello, shake his hand and say goodbye.
And I'm here for days, to plant seeds in the fields of Farmville, trying to figure out what was the exact moment when I split in two, to become this void that I can not fill.
Plato crap.
It takes a lot, but a lot of patience, to be able to give as food to concerns, to cultivate a peaceful solitude, away from your clamor.
74 richieste di amicizia.
Sono tante, cazzo.
Il mondo è pieno di gente interessata a farsi i cazzi miei.
No, non accetto più l'amicizia di nessuno, ho deciso.
Voglio una bacheca vuota.
Come i miei campi su farmville.
Oggi è proprio dura, dura come non lo è stato mai.
Però adesso sono pronto.
Adesso finalmente sono pronto. Lo so. Lo sento.
La verità è che in amore non esistono ricordi, soltanto lunghi addii stupidi, crudeli e dolorosi.
Durano una vita e fanno male.
E' come morire ogni volta.
Solo che poi continui a vivere.
Enter or leave?
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