when is it now
mardi 8 septembre 2009
waiting to leave, I continued chatting with my body, having found someone to agree with me, I prefer talking to myself, I love me more than any other elements, I see nothing other more accommodating, friendly, tasteless, uninteresting, wave falls, wood creaking, blood flowing, I in all his splendor and his personal misery to the sun, I am most concerned by what I am makes me beautiful legs and feet are solid, that's my plan, me and only me through reality with contempt and desire to spend, but choose the path where, in other words, what is the main sense that transmits the author's ability to drive right, I do not know who is responsible, that's how it happens, there's no explanation, otherwise it continues to be a possibility of waiver, nothing is as it was, I was young, carefree and dreamy, I'm worried now, where do I lost my stones, I can not go backwards, forwards, there is nothing Can I move without hurting me, I do not know what to expect, so it's not serious, he must worry about what I know, the others are away, the uncertainty is large enough stop playing with dolls, I can push the limits
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