mocking the marathon of life I would stop and chat with all the moments that, in spite of myself, running slower than me. Beyond them and only I may look back at the risk-very unpleasant for those who still struggle with me before. Again, see sway, some more graceful people to scramble in that race which does not seem to understand why. Someone I can rip my shirt, and I keep it with me - just a little bit, of course, to please me so well executed overtaking of that, maybe. In mocking
marathon of life are built to win a race impossible for any case I could not turn to face the Dark Lord. I need someone to hold hands, in the marathon of life, someone who runs with me, that together we face, together with refreshment stops. Even though, it can leave the hand-grasping-and she would like to keep him going alone, alone alone turn back to join us. Someone to do stretching, with which stopping to eat where the truckers stop. Someone to laugh with, cry with here, which riangere, which pidere, close and stop light should bind us, ready to melt to pass on either side of a street lamp: ready to seal when they were trying to destroy it. Close that it is the latest sensation of this mocking marathon that is life.
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