Did you land in the nose
(Jan Dunning, http://a-dream-like-this.blogspot.com/search?updated- max = 2008-03-12T13% 3A53% 3A00-07% 3A00 & max-results = 7)
is 19h, I leave the "work" and I stress. Provided that the laundromat is still open. The down-to-earth kidnapped me, I have porridge in the mouth, eyes and nose. Fortunately, there's the sun, the air is sweet, 1 April, more than I miss a good big slap sleet. I check, my twists, but no, I did not even fish stuck in the back.
This morning, I am not lifting for three minutes, I start my overthrow bowl of muesli with fruit Monoprix. Not easy to not be face against the ground, where, squatting on the floor, I play the brush so early. I try to show much imagination, to show strength of character not to give in to temptation, not to plunge directly under the duvet. Not easy when all eyes still puffy from start to dream about all these exciting things you can do in a day, while trying to retrieve small pieces and petals scattered cornflakes. Go
hop, I try, I'm starting. I put myself in the position of a backdrop of cinema. My boss asks me lake, very big, but not too far, tall grass, but not too much, a forest garden of Eden atmosphere, surrounding hills, and a road that could eventually meander. Good. I wonder if that makes me dream, if y 'paradise paved roads. I try to fly, but you have to face facts, I'm just surfing google earth, and I just can not help but wonder, is that tomorrow I will have clean socks, is what my panties have been much time to dry?
this life I hate, I curse. I sometimes escapes. To my surprise, when I go to Monoprix and buy bread and coffee, as if my life depended on it. And I come back with a package of Danette cotton and chocolate, I wonder what has happened
where I could have gone. For several minutes, I left the land of the staples. Within seconds I was able to enjoy the gentle bubble and futility.
19:30, deadline for the last machine. I mix white and color. Did she not learn your mother? Nope, it's not like his down-to-earth about her. She fucking hands in the clay my mother, one with which we make small snowmen, vases and bunches, with whom we share a dream. So yeah, I mix white and color and I Fuck.
Spring is unpredictable and surprising. Rain and sun alternate tirelessly as if they were chasing never able to catch up, they play with my feelings.
Sun, April 2 Hilda was born, yet one that has been forced to leave his bull for the land it will attack, strong in all his toes.
Rain, I'm on the street is normal, I'm not even angry, probably because the purpose of my walk is to first buy a pair of shoes, but also because I have so much hangover that I rely on these water spouts to relieve my brain fogged.
Snow, he is 3: 46, I laughed a lot, I counted 946 steps under the CWS, it's Sunday, the day the sheets are white and smell good, I like the noise that 'they do when no one has yet received, and finally, I like the sound of my footsteps on the snowy ground.
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