How Did Chritopher Columbus Dress

Syndrome Stockholm

I have a tangle of thoughts into my head that I do not think being able to unravel. It 's like a school with algebra. All that strange series of numbers that stood there staring for minutes. I was sweating, looked at the clock, trying to copy. I did not understand that we just had to do with all those damned numbers. They made me mad. Then I delivered the paper in white and went to the bathroom to smoke. Then came the women and the women are much more complicated algebra. They need attention, somersaults, a superhuman effort steady, preliminary, supplementary. You're right when you say that I try to keep away, the problem is that there can never. I give up. I raise the white flag. You win. You've won and I lost. Think about that when we were dating I felt so guilty when I strive so diligently to bring the thing with his feet on the ground. It had no name. It was simply, quote, everything. It pains me to hurt you, but I felt it was right to do so. I was the one I had some very strong and specific responsibilities. I did not understand a shit. And now all these months have passed, so many, and I'm still the same naive fool ever. And 'all day, I try not to think of you. All day thinking, not thinking about her, not thinking about her, not thinking about her. I can not stand the banality of these feelings. All this useless yearning. It makes me feel weak and helpless and I hate feeling this way. All hate feeling that way. And then I did it this way. Are dull and lacking the means to do anything. And you're seeing one. And every time I can think of sending me a message this small block. What can you do, I am a gentleman of the old days. So you'll stay silent hostage for as long as it takes. I will not try to run more. Feel comfortable, bound, good here. With the Stockholm syndrome and all the rest. Until you come to untie me and let me go. The first thing I do is to hold you. Then later I'll try to kiss you. I'll take your hand and go out together from the shelter air. You'll have your sunglasses, I'll slit your eyes and say something di scemo. Tu mi colpirai con un pugno nello stomaco e poi scoppierai a ridere. Poi verrà la sera e la sera avrà ancora il nostro odore. Poi io mi sveglierò, in un bagno di sudore.