I FOUND Raron face up pointing his eyes to heaven, a heaven dirty and discolored by rust and neglect. 
A halo of light crossing the corner of the room, seemed to be the sanctity of men before the abstraction death. It was midday in Queens Village, eyed him with tears and rotting for two days of waiting. Thousands of maggots came and went through his body as walking streets and avenues lost in time. Sinovac
inhabited by the disorder, restless pendulum of memory was a man in a dark room without being noticed. People came and out, and played a symphony foul smell bitter and disenchanted. Within all this menace, I recognized a slight whiff of laudanum and azmiscle, strange mixture that disappeared into the back of the house. Just to visit someone, you pass through that door and saw the man lying by the window. I took the Q43 bus that left me in the subway to take the F. Had in my mind a strange scene, chocolate and dry milk for days, a mixture of smells absolute wrinkled card with a poem by Benedetti in English and her own room. Inhale, it may take thousands of puzzles in my memory.
Queens Borough is not any , is the largest in New York, considered by some to be the bedroom of the city. In it are scattered bodies of hope and time. The blues and hip hops , the cry of some drums at dusk and the dark silhouette swing smoke. Then crossing the subway across the road, an hour from Manhattan. And now I feel like flying in an evolution of the return, I meditate on the lost time at a station, in the distance my mind overflowing with the most accurate way, in expectation. Currently
is limited to toy many decisions while thinking that chocolate is my passion. What sense could have one thing to another? There million nin guna connection. Are important for many tastes and aromas of solitude and privacy,
from a hot chocolate batter reading a book until a body of pure desire for chocolate. Arriving at West 4, I bought one for me was the time delay. I walked several blocks to remind your Heart Breastplate Benedetti and so trite to many and English next to the chocolate waiting. I suddenly found myself in front of Barnes & Noble, a large bookstore in Manhattan, among many sites and searches found their own room and read Virginia Woolf to be able to carry independent living and develop their own creative nature you need a separate room with a lock and five hundred a year . They still will not understand that writing is this insane, I tell you I found a room far from my own room, to where I want chocolate aroma intoxicated and words. It could be a crazy assumption, or truth. That image just transports me to my rulings that I make.
I have to take my perfume, my hot chocolate and find another room on your own and let the memories slip away through the opening along with the rain. Here is dawning and I gravitate about that I must do later, under the circumstances looking at the l
one by the window. Disorder and the immediacy of silence overwhelm me, there is a sign of disbelief in hope. However, I could unravel the enigma of the man, waited for years that she came back and squeezing your card expired the weight of memory. There in that little dark room, he mentioned to forget to listen to him as when she said she would return. The wait was very long and she never returned, and found him looking at the sky stopped because dust will be dust in love.
A halo of light crossing the corner of the room, seemed to be the sanctity of men before the abstraction death. It was midday in Queens Village, eyed him with tears and rotting for two days of waiting. Thousands of maggots came and went through his body as walking streets and avenues lost in time. Sinovac inhabited by the disorder, restless pendulum of memory was a man in a dark room without being noticed. People came and out, and played a symphony foul smell bitter and disenchanted. Within all this menace, I recognized a slight whiff of laudanum and azmiscle, strange mixture that disappeared into the back of the house. Just to visit someone, you pass through that door and saw the man lying by the window. I took the Q43 bus that left me in the subway to take the F. Had in my mind a strange scene, chocolate and dry milk for days, a mixture of smells absolute wrinkled card with a poem by Benedetti in English and her own room. Inhale, it may take thousands of puzzles in my memory.
Queens Borough is not any , is the largest in New York, considered by some to be the bedroom of the city. In it are scattered bodies of hope and time. The blues and hip hops , the cry of some drums at dusk and the dark silhouette swing smoke. Then crossing the subway across the road, an hour from Manhattan. And now I feel like flying in an evolution of the return, I meditate on the lost time at a station, in the distance my mind overflowing with the most accurate way, in expectation. Currently
is limited to toy many decisions while thinking that chocolate is my passion. What sense could have one thing to another? There million nin guna connection. Are important for many tastes and aromas of solitude and privacy,
from a hot chocolate batter reading a book until a body of pure desire for chocolate. Arriving at West 4, I bought one for me was the time delay. I walked several blocks to remind your Heart Breastplate Benedetti and so trite to many and English next to the chocolate waiting. I suddenly found myself in front of Barnes & Noble, a large bookstore in Manhattan, among many sites and searches found their own room and read Virginia Woolf to be able to carry independent living and develop their own creative nature you need a separate room with a lock and five hundred a year . They still will not understand that writing is this insane, I tell you I found a room far from my own room, to where I want chocolate aroma intoxicated and words. It could be a crazy assumption, or truth. That image just transports me to my rulings that I make. I have to take my perfume, my hot chocolate and find another room on your own and let the memories slip away through the opening along with the rain. Here is dawning and I gravitate about that I must do later, under the circumstances looking at the l
one by the window. Disorder and the immediacy of silence overwhelm me, there is a sign of disbelief in hope. However, I could unravel the enigma of the man, waited for years that she came back and squeezing your card expired the weight of memory. There in that little dark room, he mentioned to forget to listen to him as when she said she would return. The wait was very long and she never returned, and found him looking at the sky stopped because dust will be dust in love. ( drawings Tim Burton are )
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