We are my friend to deny everything a million times nowadays: sweet-sad loves, torturing, burning breaks just like universe feelings. Can you ask my friend who could have been the bigger traitor: the constantly loss-making, vulnerable heart, or just a series of desire for spontaneity?! "You are looking for your answers in vain, as if they didn't exist anymore, because it was always more important to be a little style, Pipogya career, and the awareness of what others think behind your back."
Once upon a time, you undress to the bone to see your inner, more true being than a mole-bearer who first ventures to the surface and frightened because he is forced to blink; You will blink a lot yourself like a blind, glassy swollen mushroom, cowardly rabbit if your beloved dear is just an unexpected announcement: Sorry, but she loves something else for a long His needs, nor his tingling instinct-molecules, which you knew faithfully, remained loyal to you.
It gets empty at an accelerated pace, perhaps just because you could never really understand the petty, insidious rules of the troubled, complex life. In your dreams, your selfish-mushy ******* would try a host to yourself, and when you look at the depths of mirrors, you will surprise yourself as a curious-child Esti Esti; How did you think all your dreams, your desire, would be fully fulfilled!
All of you will be in your instincts, and you will only be shocked if you are nervously unexpectedly doubtful, uncertainty, preserved in vain as the basic formulas of Spleen.