He woke up suddenly with a strange sensation in the body. He raised his left hand and pulled it over his face, making the classic gesture of someone who attempts to pull up the dream of rubbing against the skin. For some reason he did not realize that his right hand had not responded to the mandate, and remained motionless on the bed. Certainly something was wrong. But he ignored it and tried to enter suddenly thinking quickly return to the waking world, of which he was absent for much longer than it should. However, their movement was abruptly interrupted when I noticed it was late and his face was already crashing to the ground. It was found that breathing air layer on the surface of the carpet with a classic, dense smell of dust, mites and any accumulated dirt for weeks. He noticed several things at that time. First let the employee had visited that room more often. And second, that his leg and right hand were completely numb, and of course this had caused the fall. His first thought was that hand and leg should not be so fast as he returned to the waking world. Logically, a more realistic explanation was that it must have fallen asleep next to a way that its circulation had been temporarily cut for those tips. But that did not matter when, as in all I thought was a strange experience he had been confident all his weight on his leg, which until now had always been faithful, and that she simply did not respond. For him this was something unique, something that deserved to have been shared with someone, so we can laugh at the way the situation deserved. Could have stopped at that thought, which inevitably would have led to reflect on their solitude, and thus lead him to start one of his usual autocatalytic cycles of depression. Fortunately, the hilarity of the situation was stronger, and let out some laughter drowned out by the carpet, still blocking his face. stopped suddenly as he realized what was coming next. His blood, of course I wanted desperately to return to the member where he had been evicted, to prevent any permanent damage. This only meant one thing: the tingle!. That uncomfortable feeling that he hated his body back to life seemed to emulate thousands of ants biting at the same time their skin and meat inside, followed by numbness, much like the intense pain. All we've probably ever experienced that. He obviously knew it was an effect passenger and fast, but this was not enough reason not to feel a deep despair at what was coming. Especially because this time it was all an arm and a leg all going to wake up at the same time. The moment did not wait long and moments later the swarm attacked him, and the experience was, at least, worse than I imagined. Then think the best way to illustrate the feeling would perhaps imagine your arm and leg being revived by a cardiac defibrillator. As is clear it was a ridiculously unique experience, nasty, and desperate at the same time. But it would be the only time from the day that would happen with some experience of these characteristics.
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as he could, and after a few minutes to get incorporated. His mind went quickly to think on his leg asleep to the things that should begin to do that day. Get up and face the new day is always a task too easy, sometimes requires a lot of concentration, self discipline or even a high dose of masochism. Sometimes, thinking about the actions of the day to come is not a wise act of responsibility, is more a psychological exercise, for some it may be a kind of white lie necessary to have a reason to get up and face the same routine, the same despair or a new disappointment. For some reason, which could only be explained by understanding the intricate ways that the mind takes to understand the world around us (and not for us now explain to us) this drill metal of what came in the day led him to think about what had passed the previous day. And get this memory was, however much they tried to avoid inevitable. Because it is inevitable to recognize you can not define who we are not seeing what we were and what has led us to that particular point. As if every memory and every experience were bricks that are joining and adhering to a building complex that not even surreal Gaudi might have played in their magnificent buildings. If we accept this, we understand that this memory defined who he was, or at least how he felt at that point in space-time our Ian-incidentally is the name our protagonist, y, aprovecho para pedir disculpas por la demora en revelar tan importante información, pero la realidad es que me esforcé mantenerlo en el anonimato, pero mis limitaciones en la narrativa me lo impidieron. Él era ese recuerdo, ese pensamiento lo consumió durante algunos segundos que parecieron eternos. Revivió toda la escena y esta lo llevo a otra anterior y otra anterior, y fue inevitable que la forma en que llegaban estos estuviera dominada por el lado autodestructivo de su personalidad. Los ladrillos que se juntaron parecían negros y cada uno que llegaba pesaba sobre su ánimo como una aplanadora pasando en un cultivo de rosas. Es claro que Ian solo estaba viendo the glass almost empty, not allowed to realize that not being totally void could be one of the most wonderful things that had happened previously. But we stop pop psychology, "which was this memory? I fear dear readers I'll need a whole new chapter to explain in detail, but be content now to know that everything revolves around what they have always turning all sad words of humanity, the longing for love and fear of loneliness.
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