A me is that I know, it stuns me birthdays.
I am confused,
here I can only hold onto the jersey, Will Sibylle, the three books I bought on Wednesday in France (Vian, Ernaux, Queneau), galloping pain just above the pubis, the strange way of interacting with individuals opaque, even those guys for your touch was the first (half laughing, were they so many? unclean) and trusted voices before, now known (and vice versa), it all seems so distant and heavy clouds falls and only the slopes Gave me hope, is really at the opposite end love comes to me before, but well are these days and so is this day, April 22, the hype on the bed and the lowest and most fun time, although it has extremely wrinkled shirt to be one of those shirts that you should not take never under any circumstances wrinkled, weather-years time, greatly disturb
but this does not depend, at least not for me.
Ah, what nonsense. I have hunger.
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