vecino en problemas...

Vuelvo a publicar algunas de las páginas de aquél diario íntimo que llevaba mi vecino y que cayó en mis manos luego de una tremenda explosión hace unos meses. Después de aquellos: "mis problemas con la bebida", cuelgo ahora algunas de las páginas de su diario, que evocan la clara angustia emocional que sufrió mi vecino, el día que comenzó una terapia psicológica que no acabó de asimilar (... o entender):

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I return to publish some pages that one "secret diary" that took my neighbor and who fell in my hands after a big explosion. After those 'my problems with the drink', I posting here some pages of your jounal that evoke the clear emotional anguish that it underwent my neighbor, the day that began a psychological therapy that he didn't finish assimilating (or undertanding):

· my problems with the psychology · I said the doc: "I was always a hen and bum... but, never I knew what I was first..."

A say: goodbye! / B say: goodbye... / A and B thinks: what meant to me really?

"The doctor has just diagnosed me that I have a bipolar disorder, nevertheless I cannot having two conversations in simultaneous at the messenger..."

"I must control this obsessive odd habit that I have, right now: that to jumping on the zebra's white stripes crossing of the corner of my house, because this will end up by spoiling my figure... Just opposite they put a donuts shop and I cannot resist to a box of six, every day..."

· my problems with the (para)psychology · "the problem is not so much that my dead mother appears in my house every day... but she chooses my shirts!"