Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Damask Cardstock Black And White

Dear friend, I am writing this letter even though I know you will not ever read it because your eyelids are not opening up your hands never touch nor any more piece of carta.Ti six poisoned, killed you, why you left solo.Non but why just because you felt you were davvero.Attorno you could do was the desert of affetti.Nessun 'lover, no relatives, no amico.E also the indifference of those who now do not you have wanted to help, not interfere took remains palese.Nessuna tears from those who told me of your death and not even by those to whom I have given my wife notizia.Tua, they told me that because you will not hear the difference no longer exists for her since she had discovered your relazione.Ogni thing you had left, he had no money even to pay the rent and have tried discreetly aiutasse.Ma you found someone you only evil and wickedness of those who seemed indifferenza.La seconded by offering the rest his lunch, but now will not return from his vacation because they do not see the reason, rather than worry about the remorse that threatens people who do not have neighbors, instead of thinking of your tragedia.L 'indifference of people like me , who did not believe that in the end you would have done and then give you a considered superfluous mano.Sono remained chained in the injury of your choices, I was angry and disgusted by what I did but now, now I do not see the misery of my being : I was a tiny little person, and ingiusta.Scusami mean if I have not reached out, though I have slapped those who laughed at you but I was in a condescending silence, if you do not have stood. I wish
had it not been fatto.CHe I had never bought the poison topi.Avrei wished you had been happy, but since I know you, do not you ever stato.Chissà now if you feel better, or if you have repented or if you are ashamed or if you feel free, I wonder if you're still so lonely.
Rest in peace, my friend.


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