tomorrow, that will I do, the earth rotates, I walk straight, it does not bother me, as do tomorrow, what do I think, I think a lot, but some things happen, it's slow as I bubbles, is that one day I'm going to explode, it is possible if I keep pretending, but it is my nature, I did not do it on purpose to be what I am, I think that I am, I am encouraged'll go ahead, and then I breathe, what good it does not work, just that I do fall into the mud, why I continue, I love the smell of humus decomposition when the winter is past, the leaves of trees decompose, releasing a comforting smell, I can already imagine the earth will feel nothing, so be it, I have tried everything, if you do not come, it's not my fault, it's just that I am what I am in my corner, if I make a round, it's about me, that's why I go on, I look round I do, and I'm another to see how it will do it occupies