Did that simply come out of my mouth, his mouth, your mouth? I had a picture of the man turning to the aspect as a result of he was gagging and then spitting out a bunch of bloody teeth. Then he realized he wouldn't be living with that. After which I begin writing. When i lean on the shoulder of the lady I really like, and might see, let’s say, the peace of twilight over a mountain landscape, gold-inexperienced fields, the shadow of bushes, black-nosed sheep motionless behind hedges and the solar about to disappear behind craggy peaks, and know - not from the expression on her face, however from inside the world as it is - that the lady I really like is seeing the same world, and that this convergence is part of the world and that love constitutes precisely, at that very second, the paradox of an identical difference, then love exists, and guarantees to proceed to exist.
Here is my web page -
fucking shit
