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SITTING STILL THINKING

Better stop talking, writing.Anything.
In a week or I'll be in Valencia and coal ash, the gift of the whole concern.
Everything will depend on the aircraft, unless "moved to the Ground" spetascerà or not.
Yesterday, dear diary, with the foremast dear michele close to home, try to reproduce arch evening in December 2007 when, with eyes half-closed we were offering beers on radiators vicenda.Seduti talked about old times, talked about songs, singing and rags redesigned the past with the quality pen.
Dear diary, my father I have it written on a crumpled paper and grease that I put next to the bed every night but I never read the mattina.La picture of my brother has a mustache, so to give a bit of maturity.
Mesteri (sad, mysterious, sad and earnest) Mrs. mild-mannered and brusque, give me a hand with what I take away with the other.
Dear Diary, the walking is over, finished armored glances at the windows.
Last night I saw someone through the window: it was summer, it was back to tell me that there had been.
But I have not noticed, too busy living it.
I've never played in the degree, just remember, I was too busy to utter failure in English. Yet there were all
and it was fun.
My mom makes the pizza on Saturday they stay better on Sunday.
It all seems obvious, but get off the pot. The job of a parent
genitore.Il not trade.
tastes change with age or the brains to survive kills some passion .. to avoid noticing them No more riding we get depressed.
The holiday will be short stay and will be a must. Find a job in order to justify the tiredness in the evening, spend a few pounds, digest dinners and silences.
There was talk in Australia to go to winter, we talked about any place, anyone in my place at my side, anyone my story, no one has any memory of others.
Dear Diary, we went to hide, you and I in the morning and when I got home I was left alone.
red pandas are in this part of the day, they are winged and fragrant inside booths that seem to sofas.
No steam, could not write on the glass, the messages I leave them to winter, the cold beauty who joins you the bones and makes your feet swell in the morning. Valencia
not going to be cold, if I am not coal.
random telephone trying to patch up any anger