sweating staring at the ceiling. Looking at these four walls again and again looking at them a useless response. Nothing. Along with tranquilizers, alarm clock, with two of them, mostly despair and a mountain of handkerchiefs. Unable to accept that things change, something that life decided to invent on a whim without falling into consequences.
She
, brown with green eyes, a lover of silent film, Amelie, strawberries with cream, the towel boy to the beach and the moon, the cactus and cats. Picture every special moment, not to forget anyone. 'Life is composed of small fragments of great memories' she says. From the 'pretty hot'. Of Vogue and Capuccino in a terrace of a major street in Paris. No alerts you to Paris "'The city of love'? Why Paris 'City of Love'? Venice Why not? Why Venice she loves to go for a canal in Venice in the most beautiful gondolas full of red roses could not say 'Oh Venice, The City of Love'? There are things that are better not knowing.
With wild hair and gum loss for savannahs, sought his pair of slippers under the bed. He looked mobile, reflex action of total despair, zero calls from anyone. 'Better to die than lose a life' 'Better to die than lose a life' ... I do not like getting up and see that the bed was too big ... 'Better to die than lose a life' ... Excessive rose circles, hopes and experiences whores. So really drunk at 3:24 in the morning that his head was spinning when he closed his eyes. Not worthy of merit not undeserved, it is worth the odd triumph, deserves a win soon. But, the reality hanged at the memory.
A morning like this one piti, the moon and its shadow were his only and best friend. Her best fake smile with lipstick. The seconds passed like centimeters and kilometers distanced herself. Quite unconscious of having a nervous breakdown in his honor. She loved and hated. I hated him as much as if it existed.
(do not know the end. There are things that it is better not to know)
Nosé
how long will the black night sky is gray or how many coffees I need to clear my morning.
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