zéro degrés. huit heures du matin

de nuevo, el frío manto te cubre, pisas aquello a lo que la gente llama calle, pedazos de cemento que impiden a la naturaleza brotar entre la tierra, usados para hacer nuestra vida, o la de aquellos que los ponen mas cómoda.
storms in the sky

©

You realise who she is, how special she is, her blue green eyes, her magic hands, that dont make nothing but amazing texts. They need rest, to finally make those particular pieces of something that people see just as words. With the ability to share with other "ses intérêts", "ses passions" ."Sa vie". Waiting for that call and figure out that shes that One that makes you happy each time you precise , that perceives you, and supports you. Merçi de me rendre hereux. Fille d'un verre d'eau

I believed the world was good