In your room is too hot because you're the sun. And when your tears are born light find my rainbows. They are there, right in my eyes, and that's when everything becomes a caress. Thunderstorms are songs of nightingale. The sirens of the ambulance symphonies of Beethoven. Then squeeze your emotions as tubes of tempera then color the world. And you're always there. Capital of my state of mind.
About a year ago I almost drowned. Today
live is my favorite hobby.
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