this is the year where I risked my life,
where I lost my best friend when I was (also) hopelessly in love,
in which the balance of relations Work on the cynicism that hangs over optimism
in which the balance of family relationships also hangs on the same side
this is the year that despite the dry, 'as you're discovering what the world is' my father continued to make plans and preclude me more than any other year to want
realize this is the year when I get bored,
I happens once every x years, where air exchange happens to me, only this time I will not be satisfied in Emilia Romagna, the Italian borders
this is the year where I do not know who they are, why they are here, as I will go on and what will become of me
but I'm alive and I'm pleased with the right questions
(those are the right questions without answers)
this is the year in which most New Year's Eve of Christmas, the more the spring summer more my decision than others.
this is the year of and it does not matter, but it only matters to me?
this is the year of resolutions written and signed in duplicate,
this is the year in which I choose to get serious, next year.
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