My soul is blue, and I, my heart, and my hope, my gun, my smile. I made me what I made, I have accumulated, I have enlarged and I have not changed, I still have a little child.
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When I ripen from where I grew up, I shed my life around me, with the sparkles I play in it with me. And I'm with them and I'm going to continue to exist. He will come and find me that he follows the crumbs I took while walking and he will say, sobe, you have my hand.
I like to measure myself, but I love that sense of feeling a little too much. Refreshing, the inner child who never raised me respect for the growing, every living minutes of my life, despite everything I said. Always stay naive, on the other hand, as it says, without feeling the biggest from the biggest one, but feeling as much as the last one.
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My lovely brother, my dear friend, my good friend. Love another; in spite of their half-life. That's another shocking excitement. Love Pattern Most Other. He turns every ice floe into a handful of water.
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