You may not be crying for your forgotten pigeon hairs here; It began to scream, and for the nights, when you have almost gotten the nightmares of the nightmares, the dog could not remember it. Every decade, you still need to take all the lawyer of your life, the guillotine movement of the petty, envious, insidious gazes, which will get closer and closer to the promises of small-shaped retaliation.

Straits wounded the outlines of your childhood back, which, in a short time, was completely tired, but you couldn't say anything, and you didn't pay attention because you were a minor legally, humanly.

In your eternal child, the weathered, slightly stubborn face shows the harsh-trenches that you believe to be lost that you can no longer get back; nor in the form of gift or privileged gestures - your inner soul falls cannot even erase the traces of your conscious selfishness. - You book your losses in a nice line, your Talmi-ócska merits, with which you either intentionally bread, or trampled your remaining dignity.

The stigma mines faded in trembling, trembling inside are tense, shouting, or just begging: "Where do you stay for such a dear angel, who with your one glance you comfort the restless whimpering, orphaned worn-out kids I stayed?! Apocryphal secrets.

Celeb-smelling exibitionist **** is the romantic self-pity of sentimentalism and the glass pots of mosaic. The last adolescents cherish dandelion loves because - maybe - they have no mood for the world of superficial, muddy absolute adults!