It 's nice to know that you may not even know things. I do not know, for example. The older I get, the more I forget. I forgot how to do it, how do you make myself, I have even forgotten how to complain. At some point, something really important to go out of my mind, like breathing ... then it will be a big problem.
I mean that there is no problem in letting a bit rusty '... that beautiful feeling of being rigid and immobile, is a good excuse. Heck how can you forget about who we were. You never can tell what comes out of a confused mind, and he actually is pale and confused. Wonder if he knows, but can not. Hinder them; that's how I want it .... nice ignorant, so that it is much easier to control. If you smoke or not smoke is the same thing, but then what is best!? Better that you do not smoke, at least there is nothing unclear in me ... even my lungs are clear right now ... it's all about health bursting myself from all my pores. Yes, I come spurted out of me, inside there is too much stuff and I understand I must be gentle and make room for all that other stuff I want to take my place neatly inside. To love me also seems right, except now out of me I do not know where to go ... I do not smoke even more. I think there inside me are having fun, after all there is plenty of space and before leaving I left everything in order. Evil! I was wrong! I must do as the babyrockstars the night before the debut concert smashing everything ... and leave a mess! Shit on me, a solution is not easy ... I was never very good at contortion acrobatics and even in spring. Shit I could at least take away something to remember or scratch with the key under the parked cars as I was leaving, but no! No balls! naaaaaaaa! If we had put a moat in front of me there I would have thrown the head. Drowning in the mud I felt fine words shouted from the windows of that filthy hole. I mean let's face it was a hole. One and eighty in height (almost) to say half a meter wide (very nearly) in some places could also call it home, there where the water is brown rice with bananas is a luxury reserved for Sunday.
The brain also wants him tonight sorties from the skull, but how do I tell him to stay? For what? A handful of dreams change that even a child with a finger in the nose and a slingshot could do. When you're a brain in short, would you aspire to better, and it looks like this is not a field of my expertise. Ste lights bother me but I can not fucking shut them down, otherwise who will then pay the workers? It 's all a patatrack as is well understood, and much more is at stake here that the grandmother's dentures.
The back is always open, no need to knock.
0 comments:
Post a Comment