Non mi viene neanche una mezza tacca di titolo. L'ho scritto sei volte, tipo. Sarà un segno.
Ad ogni modo, ho scritto una cosa per un concorso, a proposito dell'arte, e mi sembra proprio di una pallosità estrema - mi viene l'orticaria solo a pensare che per lavorarci sopra devo rileggerla.
Eppure vorrei scrivere ancora - non dell'arte. No.
Oggi non l'ho visto quasi per niente. Anzi, mi sa che non era manco lui, anche se mi sembrava d'averlo seen streaking. Except that I do not think I would really like him. That is, yes, it's nice to be frightening - at least in my opinion - and I am a kind of syncope every time I see him even by mistake, but I do not know - and the idea scares me to know. It makes me feel strange and uncomfortable more than ever. I do not know what could happen, maybe I would not want either to happen.
Instead, if I think someone else makes me smile. It is not very nice, but it's nice and gentleman, and if I have to be honest this sort of thing makes me blush. And I know that I do not like blush, but it flatters me so much that I blush the same fucking blood.
This morning I put the earrings of all stained glass. They are great - I like big earrings, but generally my motto is "abhors anything that makes you look more feminine." I do not know why this aversion to the universe rose.
Maybe I was a child hit his head. Forte. Very strong.
But, I said, earrings. They remind me of something that said a person. I do not want any longer that that person is beside me.
I do not want a lot of vacation. Indeed, at this very moment, yes. And, anyway, I want to jump with all my strength science class on Monday. I will not panic. But I did and I have been able to answer two questions, which I think is beautiful because the patches maybe half past seven.
keep me sick.
My head is all swollen and hot and heavy, almost about to burst.
Perhaps it would be better. I wonder if the gray matter is really gray. As a child I was convinced that the brain could be transplanted. It would be cool. I want to read at least two or three books.
And then I have to buy the saga of Geralt striga. It seems strong. However (I prefer solemnly to "anyway"), hereinafter set out my Law of Numbers (after having been informed that I am trying to change my capital D italic):
1. Equal que es best odd.
2. The odd numbers are better this sub with the odd numbers first.
3. Three best es que 2.
4. Numbers ending in 5 are better than these numbers of ending in 2, 4, 6 or 8 but como que peers end up 0.
5. My favorite numbers are still 3, 6, 7, 21, 28. Six and 28 because they are "perfect" *, because the other does. *
perfect numbers: numbers in which the sum of the sub is the number itself. 6 = 1, 2, 3. 1 + 2 + 3 = 6. 28 = 1, 2, 4, 7, 14. 1 + 2 + 4 + 7 + 14 = 28.
Okay, it seems normal? Because I do.
** nods convinced me **.
... seriously.
parbleu!
... seriously.
END.
Ps. ... on if-** WE UNDERSTAND, SHIT !!!**
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