I write about other things and end up writing my thoughts.
I write about me but as if you were someone else. At other times I have suspended and ended up being very clear or become apparent when I stop, I end up hiding and encrypting both what I mean, when the hour, I said it. I want to dream emotion and cold. I want to sleep cold and rushed. I want to advance and only appears to go back.
And either way, the way - I guess - be this hard.
And the funny thing is that between letters and words and paragraphs and pages, I head back to your smile and other memories and sensations that I have fresh in memory, but I shall keep them for me as if a file surreptitious and that I keep hidden and merged into the intricacies of my hard disk is involved.
is not easy to forget - or help thinking - things.
I write about me but as if you were someone else. At other times I have suspended and ended up being very clear or become apparent when I stop, I end up hiding and encrypting both what I mean, when the hour, I said it. I want to dream emotion and cold. I want to sleep cold and rushed. I want to advance and only appears to go back.
And either way, the way - I guess - be this hard.
And the funny thing is that between letters and words and paragraphs and pages, I head back to your smile and other memories and sensations that I have fresh in memory, but I shall keep them for me as if a file surreptitious and that I keep hidden and merged into the intricacies of my hard disk is involved.
is not easy to forget - or help thinking - things.
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