Pokemon Emeraude Rom Cydia

's a bit like dying

I remember one day a hundred years ago, when my parents were a model couple, so united that rivals any in my small town ', with no exceptions. They had just returned from a great trip in Venezuela, and my father said, opening the door: It 's true, PARTS AND' A LITTLE 'how to die.

I was about 10 years and I did not understand what this phrase might mean, it seemed completely pointless.

Now it seems the past is really more 'than a century since then, everything' s gonna change: my parents are no longer 'the pair model that was the envy of all, I do not live more' in Italy, My brother and 'become un'ometto now. And perhaps because of the fact that I do not live more 'in Italy, I could understand the meaning of this phrase from that day I turn on the head constantly, like a song you hear on the radio and then you can no longer' stop to sing.

Every time I go to Italy, when the time comes to leave, I feel really die
every time I am going to visit my parents and my brother, and I can see all the anguish on their faces who are trying at the moment and I can almost see the tears that remain stuck in the middle 'way between the heart and eyes;
every time that I embrace with the eyes My house, my old house, one that saw me grow, cry, breathe, smile,
every time I greet my little dog, with his big eyes and so sweet, and I can almost see a little 'more 'sad, as if she knew that I'm going away again;
every time we get to the airport and approached the check in, and I feel like my heart rate increases slowly-BUM ... BUM-BUM, and I feel like throwing her arms around my mother put me to whine like children and say, come with meeeeee;
each time crossing the border line, what separates those who own the paper boarding to those who do do not, and I am very aware that it is' over, and away I see my mother, who watches me as if to say a million things, but then instead tries to greet me with a big smile.

In each of these moments, I have a feeling that something magical is over, I have to slowly break away from something that made me feel good, and again to my second home.

Maybe when we are about to die, that is after a long illness or suddenly feel really something. The moment we realize that we are about to leave the life we \u200b\u200bunderstand what actually 'is special, unique, magical. And we detach gradually, on their way to our second home.

that Consu today we do philosophy!