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Long lay with my hands under my head and stare I'm looking for wood paneling attic inclined. Artificial sun shines, others do not, but if it was May, six? evening hours, it would be real quiet and just drew a rectangle to warm my feet. I imagine that I'm at a mountain cabin somewhere and we all left. Pine trees outside the window, occasionally Azka snow seemed to suggest?, That some ski or so. And I'm stuck here with the bronchi and wheeze. Or so. I lie there as long as I have the book and there is no telly and especially there is no net. So anything. In fact, there are just those pine and possibly me. I'm trying to fix? position where nekašlem. It's challenging, but I Furu time. We all went somewhere. I have Viana, Charms, Hesse, with 150 TV programs, CDs, movies, radio in every room, and I have ... if I wanted to, I can find? Jesus and Elvis 11038799856 times. Solo for cough into silence. Artificial sun bothers me. And I hate the fake bitch! Oh, how I hate her! For years. I tried to respect? its presence? without complaint, because it is natural, but.! I can not in themselves more soul?, Nevládzem. These seizures are just a poor metaphor for my feelings now painfully coughing like small pieces of sticky poison. So know that? Hate and, frankly and openly, your hypocrisy is trying to sell all?, The country enveloped in white purity (when snow climb, the view is even more desperate, just Rausová post-condition), the babus? into colorful woolen things are cute fun (infinitely annoying layering, threading, tie, obkrúcanie, lace - and the result? feel like a mammoth) that there is no better feeling than hundred? on skis, snowboards, vehicles? the lifts and ZRA? kinder bueno (and the broken leg, dislocated shoulder), not to mention the really tacky mirage of heat and love starting Christmas, w? happy laughing friends on New Year's Eve smashed through a plush oasis hearts for Valentine's Day, a farce culminates ball robes in February. Rose in your teeth, olé! Bleak: Your icy breath frosted glass in your coach, your slush with salt, your intoxicating thaws, your murky sky, billions of your stupid stupid flakes, which are played on the originals, but what for them is it? A crows, ravens, which leave traces of snow on the shell - I burst into tears, eats like a corpse fall. Where are the swallows where the cat? The garden is deserted. We all went somewhere, departed, departed, delete the text messages, and all thoroughly. Consistently and continuously. Even those of you, even those of which I'd never thought about it, I probably would even punctured at heart, if I accidentally disappeared. Now I can confidently picha? into the heart of even the most Shoemaker needle and even more flavor? I Pich? someone in the eye cutlery knife sloppy peanut butter and jam (but it's a secret) and the knife he scratched? all that fancy whirlpool tub with some fashion, bah. Funny how the spill from then to now as the Mihama coordinates to peers, somehow intuitively, without a compass, or chaotic? looking for trails. As we remember those who hate to forget those we love, to forget those whom we love, we actually thought that we love them, because it's always about. We thought. And it was so. Fatal error. We all went somewhere and some also thought that we loved but not loved, and somehow we even forgot to say?. It made me rage, because when a lecture as canceled, so I would advice found on the bulletin board notice. / Not on its abolition. And that's the damn difference. But I also occasionally picking up the phone and did not respond to emails, so we can, in fact, even. What lend, so you leave and do not bother me. Finally, I would like to emphasize?, Yesterday that it has angelic blue-eyed blonde's face with framing a window in the pharmacy genuinely happy. Not at all because odkráčala to the store and brought me codeine without a prescription, but just for the smile and the question is how do I, so that even if all we leave somewhere, we meet elsewhere. And for that, I almost forgot.