"My name is serenaseblu. I am a blogger. 105 days are not the place. Am I still the days, because so far I have not posted, but today I could do it. My days are numbered anyway. And I prefer the days when I do not, those in which I do not feel the need, because I'm sober for myself, and I prefer a day so drunk that a life for myself. "
Someone last night or so, only men only evening (not a repeat), I wondered why it was a bit 'that I did not write any more. This is the best outing I thought. And even after all the more authentic. Write
up here for me has always been a way to take one, whether good or bad. One way to put a little 'mental ballast that makes you way too heavy in real life. Something, however, like everything that stirs something inside you, can give you an addiction. One more than the mean, as without any doubt there is room to give a meaning to existence. Only
that dependence on oneself is the most devious, the slavery of their freedom. It takes all the daffodils should be reflected in the water. But then he felt his face is cold and sit up without drowning. I like putting white on blue what I write, but I enjoy sapermelo.
so do not close, but not update regularly. You give a little 'the fact that the reflection in the mirror is more effective if you think there is someone you spy through the keyhole. If I write in a timely manner of the regular commentators, my small little family Virtual, my group to do the daily meeting of anonymous bloggers.
And you know, you can do worse than the filth, but if you go to the meeting save you, does not fall.
'll take the risk, someone who throws the eye here, there, I know.
And it is amazing how some people I met through this medium to share with you sync, large slices of common sensibility, do not even known each other forever.
Well, who always know ourselves, our concern and the "warrior spirit who enter here me roar." But see
masked by others, recognize the encounter of beautiful people there make it bearable, and - maybe - nice people in our turn.
Someone last night or so, only men only evening (not a repeat), I wondered why it was a bit 'that I did not write any more. This is the best outing I thought. And even after all the more authentic. Write
up here for me has always been a way to take one, whether good or bad. One way to put a little 'mental ballast that makes you way too heavy in real life. Something, however, like everything that stirs something inside you, can give you an addiction. One more than the mean, as without any doubt there is room to give a meaning to existence. Only
that dependence on oneself is the most devious, the slavery of their freedom. It takes all the daffodils should be reflected in the water. But then he felt his face is cold and sit up without drowning. I like putting white on blue what I write, but I enjoy sapermelo.
so do not close, but not update regularly. You give a little 'the fact that the reflection in the mirror is more effective if you think there is someone you spy through the keyhole. If I write in a timely manner of the regular commentators, my small little family Virtual, my group to do the daily meeting of anonymous bloggers.
And you know, you can do worse than the filth, but if you go to the meeting save you, does not fall.
'll take the risk, someone who throws the eye here, there, I know.
And it is amazing how some people I met through this medium to share with you sync, large slices of common sensibility, do not even known each other forever.
Well, who always know ourselves, our concern and the "warrior spirit who enter here me roar." But see
masked by others, recognize the encounter of beautiful people there make it bearable, and - maybe - nice people in our turn.
What I fear most, could meet you halfway.
