Corrections

My mom killed my dad: then the veins were cut.

Love in its purest and perfect grade.

He was living for and for my dad and was not going to allow the harmful cancer to take it first to him.

The love is a tragedy, a struggle, a war between women and men.

Without tragedy there is no love.

On the other hand, nobody aspires to lose what it loves.

We are animal and they act that way.

A person who falls in love, to the moment; it turns into clerk of this ideal, loses the reason and it transforms in a slave of the dear one or loved.

Those who say that the love is a freedom, are confused for the patter of Disney and its promise of the “eternal love” and the blue prince.

All this garbage, we have swallowed them to ourselves of kids, and they have been accepted without reputation.

We all one day spend it.

Loving wars are done, it kills itself and goes over to the madness.

Because there is passion.

Unfortunately, I think that the love brings more sorrows than pleasures.

It is clear that also gives happiness, but it is so short that it does not deserve to be experienced.

I believe that all of us have been very happy with this feeling one day and also I believe that we all have been unhappy often.

The price of the love is the suspense, the insecurity and the psychosis.

The statisticians say to us that we will last a little time in couple.

Something ruins it in the best moment.

The majority they separate quickly.

The pure truth is that only we love each other ourselves, or an ideal with which it replaces the reality of its couple.

The true thing, the fact is that the love on another person is a little that it flows from our unconscious one when we fall in love, are not we the one that says: "this boy or this girl produces a strange pleasure to me …”, it is an instinct purely animal, the fondness arises, a little, as if we were a magnet that turns out to be irresistibly attracted by the metal.

And really, when we like someone like possible couple, this affection arises of much inside.

It comes from the deepest of our instincts, it is not a question of that is rational to love this person.

The affection since it usually say, he is a blind, enclosed deaf person: "To love itself or to be completed in other”, in the point in which it is guided by the logic of the desire, loves itself other because he is other who fills me, that is to say, the one who completes me, and therefore, not only I wish it, but I wish him to wish me, setting to the love, in a fictitious and artificial situation.

It is a love proyectivo.