Crossing shadows halfway

You seem to be constantly lying to yourself, you cosmetics your petty, compounding little style by not wanting to admit it and you have a big deal. You can work so much that you are well overwhelmed by Mihasna Sánta, your barking leg, and you will get in for eighteen hours a day - you know - rarely if anything changes permanently. If you go out in silence and you were guest-strange from your finite time, who couldn't get any closer or farther to the last, deserved dreams.

You've been over the half of your life for a long time, just like the omniscient, scientist Dante, who had foretold as wise insight could expect another less friendly, popular on the other side. It has stopped in you -undoubtedly -, sometimes the spleen of the universe, depression, a pathetic, humble mummy, dense thorns crossed your weak, calculating will; You were brutal-éber from the puffs of black coffee, and you were a sleepy dream man with insomnia. You couldn't have crossed the gaping Kharübdisz fissures in the way of juggling rope dancers.

Rather, you were clinging to Mihaszna Mihaszna in the way of larva-tour tunnels down the depths down and you couldn't know: what tree is the cherishing sunlight?! -Now it would be good to commit yourself to someone and make the final will, so that if your ducklings turns to make others decide for you to be sure that you can always be a secured endpoint or an understanding mind in it You can hold on and who may even testify that you have existed here.

You will have a number of dust sleeves if, like the larva, it cuts off your skin until you finally stay with your crunchy bones, and maybe a handful of ash from you; Even so, the endless time judges, sets and shape, and rarely if he gives!