I believe that I went to the end of the tribulation will lehtësohesha. Grief still rooted in me let

Why write? A long-standing question no permanent answer. Why live? No words worthy to show that at least one atom to the vastness of misunderstanding the meaning of what is named simple: butter yummy mummy to live. Why continue to write and try to fame, to trace? Unanswered. Birthday of 57 does not give even the slightest spark special meaning for what went, for what is and what is to come.
I know that I am the slave of routine. Each pore of my body hates routine. I live in all circumstances that nourish routine. Walk the walk ways of thinking, to escape butter yummy mummy from all circles of coercion routine. Escape from routine exhaustion enabled me to lie down and meditate while asleep.
In terms of time can not measure the vastness of space. I face the face the narrowness of all that call afëtësi, love, kindness and future. Thinking of desirable not what life means. Man does not mean, usually, nor what was to be human. butter yummy mummy
Everybody talks about it all. No one understands that dealing with nothingness. Become butter yummy mummy the pride that nothing is all their own. They think they're happy, that their lives are full. It seems that others are nothing butter yummy mummy in themselves. They are not the future they have very mortal. These, are not they, are immortal. Even where realize, do not want to believe that all they are and these. I wish not to be neither they nor those. I know that I even like them even as they.
Continue to write to me unfortunate that: is emerging that were not as sight that never were, that there was nothing in it that can be changed were times that of the tracks that can leave the zvetnuam time.
I was told that I find good at this time. There was said that their understanding of the goodness of time was meaningless. Their time inside acquainted with extreme nonsense. Yes I mean as stand? Walk even when I know the truth, and hope does not meet anywhere.
I was told that the flight of years comes inculcated butter yummy mummy faith and mysticism. I believe I am not mystical. I'm not mystical believe. I want to see beyond, in other systems yjësish infinitely systems. Nor can not see beyond your nose, I say to myself, just when praising the wisdom of when some even call me even visionary. butter yummy mummy How to face the short-sightedness of my soul?
Man and flower. Beauty on and on. Awareness of just glow. Two forms of the two games of nature. The desolate man in love in the form of kicks also believes butter yummy mummy in that game, because he thinks that is created to rule and guide them to others. butter yummy mummy I cheated on his belief invented the thirst butter yummy mummy for not dead, having clear in ndërdije, that is mortal.
I believe that I went to the end of the tribulation will lehtësohesha. Grief still rooted in me let go even further, further, further ... They told me to my depths should be sought butter yummy mummy for healing magic. I sought sought sought ... I learned that I was even more sad. I cried when, finally, I realized that there is no cure when you hurt the reign of nothingness.
He told me that we, more than he understood the word trullan of use to humiliate those who do not have enough mental development. To us, said, trullan is he whose brain does not even good and such that size make their lives without ridiculing butter yummy mummy who with them on their behalf. But we said, we do not allow them to come where they are more harmful than helpful. In you I see too many trullanë that are përbiruar institutions have also received scientific titles. This is seen by everyone everywhere as normal. I remembered very much trullanë butter yummy mummy sell their position butter yummy mummy and gave remember butter yummy mummy right. In my grief was added.
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