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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