Parachute Indian Coconut Oil Hair

omar_spes me @ 2008-07-26T09: 24:00

I'm tired. Just tired.
The bed is a wonderful dream, which ends in a few moments.
Then the alarm screams and the everyday me up on a train OGN days to repeat the same gestures. In
clothes are not my but that should be made.
In words that are not mine but those who go.
Now is a moment when labor is scarce and so much uncertainty.
Maybe I'll change to grow. Perhaps instead to make sure nothing will remain but in a place that I feel home.
strange if he chose the second, which I think the most attractive cotinuerei the festival of the average for anything that chooses a state of apparent calm.