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next time, the following morning.

My poor condition and your hair dark. I pogato too when I was thirteen. The cracked ribs as ramps to the sky moved in February. We do not even speak anymore, but sometimes someone calls from England and I feel better immediately. In my opinion we're going to hear Sonic Youth. No, we will end up with the presale Brondi in hand, too full for anything and we just downloaded entered as mercury batteries. Find care for the fallen. There's nothing to do. Noinonsiamodiqui . We're excited for the next ep out or flattened by the stickers on the windshield blows saliva alcohol. What a beautiful word windshield. Will you be my windshield? Will you shelter from the wind until spring Dicembrino do us part? As long as the cherry blossoms bloom in your cochlea stop you from feeling self-pity and my peep my shine, but never drunk. Cigarettes can roll it and then never smoke. The stammering mouths and ears buzzing. There is no laughing matter. And do not talk, barely touched our split ends. Want you healthy and never find. We bump, but no kiss. There kiss, but we do not know. And anyway we embrace. I write in the night on the keyboard of a cell phone to sell off, words of condemnation, not affection. I'm not talking about you. Clamps neighbors and tell your friend, never be jealous like me and still I have never been. Here I am saying here and deny it, I liked it. Who knows your face tomorrow, the face that I shall ever see. Do not sleep together because parents, my, they are afraid of tequila, gin, of drunkenness fleeting, too bourgeois in, displaying progressive out. If you're behind you're good. If you're behind you're beautiful. If you're behind you want to almost good. Almost. I almost breaks his elbow and left shoulder smells of beer poor. The joints are not the same, more often creak under the weight of huge plume of snow and I'd bring back the red from my chest physician, one day we will exchange offer advice and paracetamol. Die old, skin tight, but faded in, listening to the last group of trend. We are not the generations born without power and spirit with two phones. We are not generous. A Christmas panettone not bring our dialysis nurses even if we have saved lives, or rather postponed death. Do not rejoice cold of Christmas lights and energy, we do not even now. We weep over him, do not congratulate us, do not feel the competition. We will not see the festival, opinions do not ask, do not dance, stop paying the bruising force of looks.

The last time I drank hard I woke up with this among the draft messages. I'm not even sure I wrote it myself. It happens that a beautiful girl and I read the post it says. And I place.

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seancheatesanguinanolegengive.

are an extremely dull by unpòaquestaparte.

Extreme Mind.

love spell words and Charles hates him, then I start to give him a fag and he's bisexual to me. He always wins. Then I tell him I love him and he says, too, and I say you're my best friend and he says yes they are, then we beat the curse and he thinks I should not blaspheme because I do not have a god.

Then, then, only then, ask me why take me wrong.

Why hate her perfect smile, just what I lack. What

up close, does not have a beautiful skin, mine is better.

It should not be jealous of those who have the worst of my skin.

But then, then, only then, jealous of chichecosa?

begin to feel cold even in supermarkets and this is a bad sign. And I hate

data across the kisses, kisses oblique.

My sister gave me What to tell this fucking Year Zero, and then that happens in my head I just sentences to be bruised heart and is irritating. It is a lot. I started to listen hard to the worms and take me wrong, that's sad and bad round, you can not let you go because there are no sharp edges to be smoothed, which makes me nauseous and the lump in my throat, as if to vomit.

Then read Brondi is nice to think of being in love, love of those plurals that do not talk about me and you, but us. But it is not, there is no one and no love at all.

Or a little of many people.

Or not. Indeed not. It 'an illusion, this is not the case. It's not your fault, it's me who are not suitable. Chiaraseitristeedinsofferente.

E i soldi non mi bastano mai. Arrivo al quattro del mese con trevirgolasessantadue euri nella tasca del chiodo, spesi tutti in vino, liquirizia e pop corn. E non riesco mai a comprarmi i vinili che vorrei, i maglioni che vorrei e i chilometri verso i concerti che vorrei.

Essere minorenne fa un mucchio cacare. Potresti fare tutto, perchè sei ciovaneebello, ma finisce sempre che non puoi fare un gatto, che si è pieni di amici che ti vogliono un bene dell'anima ma nessuno che viene con te a sentire Bologna Violenta.

Son certa che quando avrò vent'anni me la riderò di quando ne avevo sedici e ascoltavo il panc anni settanta e non ero credibile con gli anfibi ai piedi e quattro piastrine di metallo sugli incisivi, centocinquantatrecentimetri with my height and orange hair ruffled and wavy always, always wasted.

And I read the blog of Lietti.

And I wrote a little 'how Lietti.

It Hurts Me To Be Fingered

Return wears ... a canoe.

"inform our passengers that we are landing and the lights in the cabin will now be off, also to save the sight of Roberto is passing in the hallway "
Roberto replied:" You un tesoro". (Ore 23.00 circa del 19 dicembre 2010, volo Pisa-Lamezia)

Cose che amo dei viaggi in aereo:

• Gli steward simpatici che fanno annunci simpatici
• Le addette al check-in che chiudono un occhio se la valigia che devi imbarcare pesa un po' più di 20 kg (qualche quintale in più)
• I ragazzi gentili che ti accendono la luce di servizio vedendo che stai leggendo e non cercano di fare conversazione ad ogni costo.
• Uscire dalla sala del ritiro bagagli e trovare qualcuno ad aspettarmi
• Raccontare a chi mi aspettava degli annunci simpatici degli steward simpatici

Cose che non sopporto dei viaggi in aereo:

• I passeggeri che al gate si mettono a fare la fila due ore prima dell'imbarco, non realizzando che chi si mette in fila per ultimo sale per ultimo sulla navetta, sta vicino alle porte, scende per primo e prende per primo posto in aereo (tipo me)
• I passeggeri che in fila, invece di mettersi dietro, stanno di lato, mollandoti anche qualche spallata. Vi odio davvero. Con tutto il cuore. (Questo vale per le file in generale)
• I genitori che ti chiedono di spostarti dal tuo duramente conquistato posto vicino al finestrino perché ci si deve mettere il loro irrequieto moccioso: la prossima volta prendi il treno, seda la tua prole, ma non rompere the balls to me!
• The usual restless kid who kicks the seat, screaming, shake, move. The dogs, which extend all my sympathy, they travel in the hold, why not children? The company of a Yorkie is much more pleasant than that of an infant.
• Passengers who, although not to pay the premium, hand-carry luggage as canoes, cellos, reproductions in natural size of Dumbo, 72 inch televisions, mattresses, the coffin of the deceased grandmother, drums baobab ready for transplantation. The
• involved who see them go with the coffin on their shoulders and say, "Hmm, maybe this does not fit in the rear shelf, but to go as well!", While you must keep the jacket on him and the bag between your feet for two hours because there's an inch where Ficca. By the way, I found a place for canoeing alternative to the hat ....

PS If you do not understand it, I came home;)

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nonpuntaresulmondocoituoidiariromantici

old, do you love? Yes

Bella.
good for us.

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Today I ate spaghetti with butter.

The same that I had prepared for you tonight I've waited in the car downstairs for twenty minutes because I had run the trick, then we did not find any empty seat and then he has gone from you, in that flat tiny without even the light, with only a lamp and the warmth of a street lamp that passed through the window.

So I put in more of the vinyl record player and I lowered the blinds. From a draft could smell ferrous make fun of my winter chapped nostrils. I had lunch.

Retaining Blocks Molds

I remember it was August, listened to the worm and we were all a bit 'happier.
What I left in August, my insomnia, listened to a concert in a hurry?
What I have left of my gums and air dried by the sun passed from that window? That
gums dry, however, is another story.
Now my winter has the smell of Fine Before You Came.
The taste, I do not know.

Sometimes nostalgia seize me too, macchetelodicoaffare.