Brain-Blah / / the Opposite of Fear 2016

Yesterday night I slept almost alone for the first time in my apartment, Lio in the room next door and still actually it mucks mouse should have been. It was not, but anyway, not in my mind and perhaps guilt are 85 hours Dexter because. I saw anyway foreign DNA dripping on the living room floor ahead of me, while I tried it with meditation and self told flat jokes against the fear. My own heartbeat in the ear was doing only unhelpful, so I eventually gave up, got up, and everywhere made the light and also a secret cigarette, I was chasing me through the lungs, as if it were the last in this world. In the classical music radio was Chopin. After madness, happiness probably sometimes, anyway, I recorded the endless Piano Concerto as encouraging ass kicking of the universe and remained sitting quietly, instead of passing me before panic, as I had before it is actually. The crap out of my body, I thought. The total crap. But Frederic was so suddenly; There is no better companion when one is about to paint Mandalas.

“The three most famous doctors of throughout the island looked at me; a Trousered what I spit out, the second knocked out there, from where I spat, the third felt and listened as I spat. The one said I was dead, said the second that I die the third, I’ll die.”– he would have understood me right now. After the Etude op. 25 (1837) I had me a bubble bath and decided never again to fear me. The opposite of fear 2016, so would you call my memoirs, watching someone try to check with the credit card in my front door. It would have been already a pity, but at least I had can tell the obese Angel throng up there by a hell life of a ride. Almost 28 years I would have to move quite a few times the imaginary tail, he would be been broken me less likely, but what would I have now. Much average, but little certainly not true delights and adventure. It may be wrong to take something if one understands that it is not about to wait, but to make. I had soaked my hair straight with peach-flush, as my cell phone in the sink fiepte. I went up only because I had no desire to deal with the shower head, winter was just broken up and each census from the lukewarm water would have transformed me the nipple in lead bullets and all arm hair into ice crystals. Anne. One of those individuals who are chronically unhappy, because they think something does not agree with them. Also tonight. While I’m sure it is the opposite. With the world what not, Anne is all in perfect order. How many people eke out their existence with noiseless forth to murmuring in calm waters, thus, ok to be. You find yourself off, instead of finding happiness. We don’t. We search for it. I ask Anna, whether she want to be, be you no doubt a crap scare the woman who is, apathetic grins and unstable greets, never think and work, because alive Wednesdays with perfect blow-dry at the supermarket checkout would. Of course not. Had the balls to suffer, so what can change. 50 cent in the phrase pig, but a bit of truth is already on it. Without dark no light – with greeting from Dexter. It doesn’t matter what hattekonntemüsste as long as we are permanent in shock and are concreted up in everyday life. Everyone has times out, sooner rather than later, otherwise the dullness eats up the senses. I ate the seventh bread, with remoulade sauce now, no speech could be a food. Anne chewed my ear off along the way and let my blast surprise taste good. I heard a click, not only in the listener, but also in her brain. I’m going out now and the spit fuckin’ fear in her face, she said. Anne is morning break up with her boyfriend, nor cancel the job. She will get on a plane that is smaller than a flashing bumper cars and look at the world for the first time from the top. Your pulse will push in the eardrum, she will see dripping lie against your own DNA on the strip of land and have more anxiety than the blow-dry. But she will feel alive. And when she’s on the ground, 2016 really starts the year that does not fear.