An incredible desire to leave one's body, really isolated, especially from themselves ... desire to find answers, concrete answers in saying that there are none, walking slowly along roads sometimes bright sometimes dark, different perspectives, depending on how it goes. Of how they look. Roads equal but different directions, different paths with equal directions, in any geographical reference to this globe terraqueous. In North and South, when rising tides of thoughts you can not run away, better to stay still and wait to be overwhelmed. Moments of difficulty. Life, death, survival, suicide. Then, the wet, the sun, and finally dry and perfect. Waiting, mind you, one more time in the wet.
phones ringing, chat that light up, people went away, people who do not it will ever go, people just, precious illuminating chats and makes the phones ring. Ring that lights up and makes the brain and thoughts, and emotions. Everything that can dye a dark and scary silence. Minutes
that flow, that flow days, the cursor the Media Player running, passing by Sting calm at sea, from verse to chorus, from beginning to end. Stories of clubs that never close, maybe.
The room is cool white letters on the keys while blacks get hot, I look up and look outside the city looking once again at night, I find myself reflected in the glass. Seeking the city, I find myself. I find myself? No. Behind us is the city. Someone shoots improbable fireworks, is celebrated. What? People leaving? People that come from?
endless cycle.
phones ringing, chat that light up, people went away, people who do not it will ever go, people just, precious illuminating chats and makes the phones ring. Ring that lights up and makes the brain and thoughts, and emotions. Everything that can dye a dark and scary silence. Minutes
that flow, that flow days, the cursor the Media Player running, passing by Sting calm at sea, from verse to chorus, from beginning to end. Stories of clubs that never close, maybe.
The room is cool white letters on the keys while blacks get hot, I look up and look outside the city looking once again at night, I find myself reflected in the glass. Seeking the city, I find myself. I find myself? No. Behind us is the city. Someone shoots improbable fireworks, is celebrated. What? People leaving? People that come from?
endless cycle.
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