Today I dropped everything. Everything my clumsy hands, so I wanted to keep juggling shoots a garden that I tried to maintain during the short summer period. It's a good thing, you know. I left the front door without notice and without escort. I ran past noon when I promised not to end my life here there while I accelerated once more step. It is that promise that, in the eyes of a mother, I was able to walk along the boulevard rather than its width. I now dream of doing 9-5 in a sex shop in walking distance from my home. Emphasize my strong selling skills embedded in my darkness to twirl the ends with purple and pink designs of dolphins and octopuses. I imagine advisor or big balls while attendant accessories, serving Melody and Panic of my island, heart in mouth. I could perhaps be paid the minimum for smacking a pair of rounded buttocks.
I have no vision except that testing and experience. How to say other than the desire to write always win me over and get into the most obscure ways? My aspirations are elsewhere, far from what the ordinary gives me. Could we just force me in understanding my indifference to the stratosphere?
Looking back, the place for me to start a new life elsewhere. Little bird nest looking to learn to fly. Dream of snow and rocks.
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