Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Best Inflatable Pillow Camping



single or you, sociable, border, Coruña and Santiago, the college or university.
the end, these moments always come back.

these nights when the hours go by, but something inside me still beats faster than normal. and I feel anxiety, and my hands are shaking.

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and I want to throw in the fridge, make me wounded in the fingers of both biting, screaming, mourn, asleep at once.

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sleep, nerves - perhaps Mac on my lap and goes through you throat - I overheated.

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I write a few lines, like a sms of those who send me every night before bed .

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I hug my mom again and feel the sand between the toes.

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the truth is, as always, do not know what I want.
and that thought comes to me destroyer : indeed, was I ever happy?

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l or was, of course it was. not so long ago indeed.
going, I would go, you need something to remind you how happy you become.

what time is it? late, too late. and Rome remind someone you know will be asleep.
and think of you, and your voice now torn, more mature. in that language that seems set to conquer.

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come on, I lived this many times .. I finally go to bed, his cheeks frozen after salt water falls, stomach burning a tea that is not cool and intemperate heart, restless feelings in a few years look stupid, waste of a difficult adolescence, as all . Or maybe not.

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and when I call out loudly to Morpheus to come and rescue me think of something you dream about, something to calm me down. and I think unexpected hug.
him in the middle of dinner.
perhaps you if one day we meet again.
of them that love me.

or, who knows, you, you're reading this sentence and you know me.

And I guess I finally fall asleep.
and only then filled me inside.


Bi.

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