Psicodialisi.
And I'm sick. I love to start the period with a conjunction. But this is not the diagnosis. They are destroyed by a disease very delicate, light, transparent, warm and comfortable. You intend to leave, it's like being wrapped in meters and meters of cling film, the same that your mother used to store food in the refrigerator. Narrow by resistant walls yet moldable. But not asphyxiated to death. They are heavily infected. Incurable. Eager for this malaise, penetrated and deliciously overwhelmed by the pain literature. I contract the work at a very young age and I confess, this is the horrible infection that shakes the bowels of my days. And 'this disease is deeply rooted in the silence of the night, stealing unworthily to duty. So childishly submissive responsibilities, by fearing punishment, as they were, the latter living entities. None of the known treatments, can give me il sorriso, il volto tremendamente segnato dagli spasmi dell'insofferenza in un'unica espressione priva di gioia. Non è reversibile, questo morbo maledetto e neppure contagioso, affinché possa portarvi tutti con me, per allentare la sofferenza. Si mangia, lentamente, lo stomaco inerme. La piaga che mi possiede, suole di notte sbocconcellarmi il ventre. E non c'è giorno di festa che non produca un chimico senso di colpa, un'attesa spasmodica e crescente del ritorno all'insopportabile tedio dell'operosità. Durante l'anelato e meritato riposo, mi produco in incontrollabili moti di punizione preventiva. Restare immobile, inabile, inattivo, sensibile eppure silenzioso, è l'espressione più malvagia di questo male. E' un'epilessia of feelings, an outlet for violent and bitter sensations, a regurgitation of tears, where the mouth plays rewarding role in the eye. I do not know how to get out really and I confess. Of virtue, I did despite my needs and now pay a very high price. In a weak spirit, the habits and constraints are easy to nest, where brooding fears and insecurities, fears and outrage. And I'm not myself. They are no longer any doubt that collection reckless and dreams, that tangle of feelings and trembling lips. I only need the calm, the needs of the peasants and petty vices enriched than once. In possession dip his head and around the neck. I ask for help and, without breath, I can not hear me or make me feel.
