Treatmentosseous Metastatic Disease

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I opened a blog on Splinder.
The day after I moved up Tumblr.com. (I think you call it that).
I felt satisfied.
That's what I need.
of anonymity.
Now I feel free to express myself without censorship.
Nobody knows me.
I have not put my face,
I have not put my name.
do not know where I live.
No reference to places and real people.
No biographical information that can be traced back to me!
It's not that I wanted to throw Crilogie.
I'm snubbing great, yet we are loyal.
At first I liked ... and I was also helpful.
But today the situation is bleak.
And I tried to unlock them elsewhere.
(and then possibly go back to basics with a new courage).
I peeped here and there where people dare to blog so much.
words freely without concern for the opinions of others.
no inhibition. Not even on intimate matters and gory and inappropriate.
to be.
Thanks a lot.
It 'so easy!
They're hiding behind a nick!
With the aura of mystery that surrounds them, can afford to say what he wants and is always intriguing!
(Cazzo. I, however, are too crystalline).
... under these conditions, I would perhaps be able to give myself the best I can?
Indeed, "those", so apparently audacious, I eat them all.
Indeed.
first day of business: four posts.
I broke the ice.
And basically I do not regret what I wrote.
In no time at all, I find two friends and two comments.
second day of activities: three posts.
I like a bit less.
Third day of activities around the gate.
Nothing to be done.
Maybe not quite cut it.
might be, but are not.
Or maybe my problem is the inconsistency. I get tired of things quickly. Or maybe
cyclothymia.
Or maybe my head is so incontinent of thoughts and emotions, they can no longer be able to keep up. Nor to extrapolate what is right and say what is best to leave out.
So, apparently, is my subconscious censor. Regardless of who the law or not.
Tonight I take out my last diary.
The first page bears the date of my twenty-first birthday.
From the engagement, it is up to the wedding.
Then the crisis.
separation. A new love.
the death of my father. There
stops.
But, incredibly, there are still many blank pages waiting for me to fill a gap of ten years.
Maybe it's the right night to start ...