There are feelings that are feeling carriers. One of these was destroyed and collapsed all my balance, my reasons. Then I felt like one of those books you start reading but then leave in the middle. Drinking absinthe has made me a damn poet. But I was dumbfounded. The Odyssey from the front door to the bed. And I never to empty pockets. If you sell the sky would be more economical. One in a thousand stand it. I'm with nine hundred ninety-nine not have made it. The ball is round, but sometimes the field is pending. Now I'm a fish that floats in the habit. And I wake up in one of those days where even getting out of bed is a Mission Impossible. So I would not ever get up. But in the end I get up.
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