Who Sells .harry Potter Wrapping Paper

Solitude resort

When we have ceased to be what we were taught. What we have wanted you to be. What you have thought it becoming. And what. And. When we unrolled our coils itself and that we will realize that we do more than raise the wire, even naked, or charged with what we have sewn, stitched, embroidered, enriched the course of his or quarrel embarrassment or even ignored, or replaced by others, or increased by destination.
It's windy. Windy in the walls, even sails, brick, concrete. On borders. Limits on hosts. Of the private grids. History has not recovered from its past follies. No one returns from the other side, before this century, where black pots were the worst finally overthrown without having actually taken notice of what was going to impart all the euphoria or calculations after the victories devolved to the people so they can feed on fresh hopes.
You still having trouble seeing with one eye at a time. As a share of gaze. An incomplete view. But gradually as you watch, you feel well disappear behind your eyes. Or rather, you do not disappear but all that you t'emplit decreases. Your importance is no longer valid. No one has added not one you've always had. Not that we could give you. But the serious and severe, and available walker, naively proud or darkly suspicious that you're available to yourself, apart from the world, apart from the others. Perhaps you imagine all that you'll be led to defeat you. You listen, fear challenging your laughter, the guardians of the status quo close. You would take each item of particular information on a particular subject, you Copiers on transparent sheets, thou overlay it, and you try to decipher a new text. News from the intimate and war news. News from home and news of a disaster. News from the North Pole and new scandals.
Like it or otherwise. The interference is perfect.
And you only read the new lingo. You do not read anything. However you feel tense a reflection, a sketch, a hypothesis. You're a street. You're a love. You're a family. On a pedigree. You are a few choices that you accepted their relativity. You are in color. You're of an era. In some music and some movies. On a god or its complete absence. You are a few books and teaching. You are a sex, beauty, were you said, a kind of a movement.
And if it had it all weighs less than us.
If we had nothing more than what it leaves as a trace.
What would you do so.
Once we reduced the furniture inside. Once melted the weight of knowledge stopped. Fallen layers of identity. Settled arthritic joints reasons. Once infused in you a fair enough share of which the mind needs.
You learn that you're alone again. Like when everything was changing. That everything had to say. But alone. Because nobody knows maybe more.
Only by dint of being more than itself. And by dint of being more of a time or place. From a belief enlivrée. As a sovereign faith. From an idea monolith. From a system proclaimed.
alone with the memory. To which must invent a solution. She no longer speaks through his upper voices of apostles or sirens. It continues to grow in the future before we have been able to decide otherwise. Only after
trees. And already more than a breath to propagate a future humanity. Only
everything that was said and written, and again, and rewritten. Worse than salt. And all his taste and dissolves all its strength in vain.
And you walk away. One way or another. If you're still good that you are. Taking only the essentials. Each one its geometry, its poetry, its sense of others, his essay, his small voice in a big empty room, its incompleteness, its duty obstinate, his naked attempt.
you walk away more and more numerous. Like us. Like all. All
daughters and son of those who killed to avoid being killed, or who have been killed by those who did not want to be.
All spectators, even indifferent, to no purpose other than destruction of inaccurate lulls before new disasters. All
without accounting ranks of wealthy Democrats Wholesalers and messengers brought good news in urns deaf. Here
oscillating between a trust immature ears of shells and omissions of plants camisoles images and sounds infusions. There
haunting plains neglected transpiring, and workshops verbs, defeats to digest and visions labyrinthine archives random page detailed entry millimiters paths, ambitions to regain speech. Some
, alternating a little here and a little there. Or anywhere. Outside as well. Outside of basely cruel and sinister. Outside of highly and regularly maintained. The first abandoned jungles shameful to areas outside laws, detention camps. The second high dungeons contemptuous prohibited in sanctuaries in safe heavens. You
doubts of what awaits you if you do not go away.
You keep the fear in you. You've sorted among all those who populated the centuries. You've taken without form, without title, without crime, without hatred. You have chosen cold, young and without reason, like fear of qu'inventent children discovering the unknown, unconscious whether an ally to move in the shadows and the brave threat if it occurs.
And you talk to this already unique loneliness that goes with you. You trust him with your knowledge. And you will make. As day after day you'll learn. Because every day you go again. Want to be. Share, so soon you will you also shared.
We talk to our loneliness. Same as yours. And you wonder, as if she's not gonna crazy.
As if from the beginning, we should never have to leave. How
the question arises it again.
Now that it condemn us that we are alone.
You probably guessed it's that question that gets closer.
Loneliness has nothing to do.
And nobody has disappeared. Except
feel thankfully lighter.

Vuse Freezing Computer

50 ... etc. ... etc. ... .. .

I say this: it is not indifferent to the work of the time it takes to attack, and rather it is what makes age need s' attack.
What is aging like what unravels. But even at twenty one is no longer a child. Already one child has had to learn to walk, talk, to dream the impossible by focusing on all that air to hold the tightrope walking because it's better if there somewhere the marker, the solid. Something on which to build. Already present or imaginary yet. Suffice it to know when we have been able to get rid of it determine its own needs, its own desires. That desire may have taken place.
What is aging like whether to accept the wear being what it eats, while the first form.
Time is a poem. This is not to reduce it. That release.
If I want, whenever I want, I take the stairs going up to the log path to the wooded ridge road to college. And it's also true that when I'd rather go down in the morning along the Bassin de la Villette to catch the subway instead of turning into the street leading to the nearest station. Will be sum of all that was and all that will be, not as a user of a methodical isolated moment that slips between a past that is still full mystery and a future that begins in just a minute.
What makes age as some fears. Coldness. Indifference frantic. As if a wall was a wall. As if a war was a war. As if he had never lost anything. As if he had to become strong and wise. And bow to fatigue issues remained silent, mostly because we have not been able to hear the echo of a timid response, much smaller than that was expected, and ultimately more useful assertions that large final whose doors are closed large dark adventures on numb.
The time is impassive and we must learn to dance. Even false. The truth is incalculable. The reality is that we allow the tyrant or that we are fighting. Except what is negotiable. What is childish: we must not lose sight that children are formidable negotiators.
The state of mind. Perhaps wary of furniture that you begin to look friendly. Ideas too malnourished and sometimes on their bellies into flagging of seriousness, if their skulls where the little gold fears awkwardly turning into lead.
forward, yes, knowing that we will, in part insoluble behind this escapes us. So we glean what falls from the stars, which falls from the books, which fall from the hearts and souls, words when the mouths are closed, any thought that we were not expected to happen and we still waiting when we disappear, just a little more drunk, breathed a little better, a little more distilled, and even, as it happens, a little more experienced. Although in most cases, barely noticing.
The condition of the heart. We understood that too much sugar, too much marshmallow syrup too interfered with its operation. It is not, of course, medical advice. Is that the soft grass should have a slightly bitter taste. It's the most beautiful night of the world should have a little hazy side. That we play hide and seek with boredom. It takes you a drink, and then two. We actually see him through the mill. Of all the blackness. Of all the hot flashes and breathless. He will be the first signal of the meeting with exhaustion. Because it does not reflect a heart. It is reflected, if it is done well, that's all. And it should be enough. Loving
yes. As much as we can. Being on that side of things. Armed as needed. Offered for what it is. Wrong is wrong because. Serious player and it was bad enough to go from earth to heaven on a drawing chalk on a sidewalk path. Before the downpour. Do not disillusioned but sell them at the heart of the diamond. Love of principle and deduce the chaff. This is the hardest to say. Can we believe failing to grasp. The decorations diluted or appropriately arranged. Ideally sided. Passion recited. Carefully and all monuments visited.
And laugh if it all, it is rumored, would be ultimately a mistake. Some say, more kindly, a combination of circumstances. At the stage where we are, what would we be held accountable? Is there a league of convenience? A hierarchy of complicity? I mean once you are done, and, where appropriate, that history is past. If only one is mounted on the train. Do we learn our lessons?
consciousness. Yes. The only conquest that avoids having to hope from above and from which they can flourish where we are. Subject ageless. Born on the entire available, traveled and traveled. Who can do that we have already lived the future and we discover the past. Whereby it is the hardest, most complicated, to push forward his curiosity to be free. This
otherwise aging led in too many cases become so poor and obscure.
consciousness. I'd do it only recovers to open his throat painfully.

How Can U Tell If A Dog Has Ringworm

I hate the word "glamorous"! (And I'm right!)

You know me, (if not all say that you are afflicted with a delay which we will have to resign ourselves to imagine in a great burst of unbridled optimism that it is not irreversible and not too damaging to the quality of our reports and future), so you know me, I said, I made temperance man. Extravagrifouillante * The complexion of my modest person leads me to pragmatism and determination, the lucid as inspiration, charm and candor, and I scent no effort to be both educated and curious, eloquent and composed, open minded and available to heart. Simply put you damn the bowl to know me. But sometimes I
, rarely true, but sometimes I get carried away by fads that border on the irrational and releases that vie with the disease. Unless This is the reverse. Regardless, fads or rejections, what is certain is that, basically, after careful analysis, it appears every time I'm right. I know it's annoying, but true.
I'll make you sit up first, then you do not ask so much of the aversion that inspires unlimited word "glamorous".
Kikipédia says that well enough to enlighten us about the existence of this term soft plastic, it would cause, which we confirmed to be in favor of abortion, a Anglicism intended to qualify I quote "a sensual beauty, charm and brilliance, characteristic of certain female stars of Hollywood." By extension, if not by répansion *, we came to use this package sticky seven letters to qualify a bit of everything and anyone or anything, provided it focuses on the mythology of wallpaper sequin , the main component of a decoration or an eternal throne pot of glucose for suffocating clouding some people photographed with sodas insipid to make them bladders for lanterns. And admittedly, it works pretty good! ...
It is only heard on what your facilitator enamored of sub-marketer gondolier turluteur the micro works to chuckle that word as if the marshmallow was divine. Including antennas on the keeping of which leads more frequently to discuss officiating works as a cultural-glando clitoral tears of indescribable clique stupid fresh vases being syrupy their fifteen minutes of fame background sewer ripolin.
It is more than our days, our nights either for that matter, delicately pretty face cracked a smile toothpaste, clothes carefully by écharpées créââââteur with a number of caret level proportional to its self-overestimation, or clip-art-bum princely without any drippings from glamorous do ooze from between the lips of commentators protrusions or importing Party. It is no longer a kazoo or a gazelle paddling before a microphone on a brilliantly composed music with two notes, (the mid and the like that it's been a friend and that's cooool), without the retro senile service at the helm of the program does under him by laying the "glamorous" as if it was on the verge of a sugar shortage. Until the ministerial office or the title of minister the more "glamorous" between two or three pitchers who both go to the soup at the end they casent is debated by journalists whose assumptions can sometimes glimpse the boiled-listed on the front pages of magazines vested in more tacky than this cult line, middle or not.
What makes up the word "glamor" of the word love by which we know as much propensity to kill each other to overlap, and, basically, a ladle, has been instrumental in creating which became more beautiful in this world since he came to be wanting to become human understandable in order to escape the fate of handbags from his cousin the crocodile. There are indeed many opportunities that the human rises from saurian that descend from primates. If you go there, yes. And why would go there not? So glamorous consists of the word love and a ridiculous prefix 'gl' Gold at the beginning of what this word is also used g and l: sticky to yellow, to Glob of Spit in mucus, to chuckle at yelp in glandouiller, and so on.
It is therefore not need more than hearing a song that usually requires that either not necessarily written by any pair of knees to notice the ugly sound of the word "glamorous".
But if we consider the rate of over-breeding of all kinds of bulky artistic pretensions, where there is rampant exploitation of the anal stage, it is understood that the dissonance coarse word "glamorous" may go unnoticed.
But that's no reason!
Just a while ago that I could hear him, projecting a screen before which my wanderings of the day took me a few minutes, the voice of an uneducated speaker program for deficient under fifty years of whispered about a work of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, he found it "glamorous." I'm a steadfast supporter of the abolition of the death penalty, I admit it happens to me too, sometimes, dream of the charms of a butcher. Certainly one could
pleasantly surprised that the aforesaid bavouilleur knew Herr Mozart. But this project skinny satisfaction prowling the confines of a self-indulgent lazy, can only pathetically enough. Mozart is everything you want, and you may not even be touched more than that : But it is not glamorous! Similarly Michelangelo, it is not glamorous! Similarly Victor Hugo, this is not glamorous! Even musical! Na!
be clear that term chemical additive that petro-oily, can at best only agree that the worlds dazed Peoples destitution common jars of cold water is used during the reign of sacrament of the holy church of Mickey.
Let us agree: it does not sort!
Thanks!

* Lexical Inventions whose definitione ** located in the famous dictionary illiteracy **. * ** See

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you come

you come get me.
you noticed. Not as a question. No. As a novel already. Flexible mounted masses of droplets exhalations sounds sad hourly clanging metal. Emanating from the moors spread throughout the eye, to welcome our country, our wanderings, our quests, our temporary castles, our sheets with billowing sails, our cries stinking furs, our moons écarquillées, curiosities of children translucent.
we have so reversed the prisons that it must be me who starts a grapple. Listen
. Listen.
There was a candle that looked like a small box theater. Gargoyles bone, directly imported from the Islands Darienford, guarded, their charming smiles, the circle under the dome aviary. They sat delicately on their heads decorated and devouring of a sudden, their orbits silk carnivorous, any disturbance that might disrupt the performance. It is the Governor of the Islands Darienford who had recommended me. An affable, sensitive, alas, halved, making it very difficult for her every move. And frankly impossible any travel beyond the seas. At best we managed to conduct a island to another. But mostly he avoided any transport. We had repeatedly invited to attend one of our parties: he could never reach. What added to the problem of being cut in half, he never knew was waking up in the morning in what sense it would be, in long, wide, diagonally. He was forbidden to predict. It was only in his sleep he was whole. They had obviously tried to move and, while he slept. But each time, when boarding, he woke up, separated like this, or like that. In one way or another. Then undertook a painful battle between one half who refused to leave and another who was so eager. We had of course tried drugs and a thousand other potions to deepen his sleep and wakes up to prevent it from starting and especially during the trip. But he showed a strange and terrible resistance to all the potions, and hypnosis to which was also used. He cultivated these gargoyles bone in a huge building with clay material excavated to construct the bed was used to build the workshop. It was elegant and always very neat, but for the small trickle of blood that could appear here and there, sometimes in a place where the break of day did eventually suffer. That said it affected a countenance full of dignity and imbued with a certain grace that made his company very enjoyable. Personally I never cared to ask about its history. It should be clearly marked with a pain that easily imagined ancient and tenacious. He spoke, moreover, not him. The little he spoke of the recent past and distant person concerned and, though rarely told it had been quite unable to guess where he came from and how he got here, to live one of these islands inhabited by people we never met. And fewer still understand why he was always cut in two. You, on the contrary, you were asked some questions. Direct or diverted. Convoluted, diffuse, embarrassed. Whenever he felt the tip touch the interrogation, he had followed an interminable silence, a deafening intensity, he went first to look at us with an expression of sky background which would have him only single star, hopelessly lost, then by an inexplicable phenomenon, we were, without noticing, projected several hours or several days later.
After several books there were more questions at all.
I'm thinking, so long ago that we have not seen. I do not even remember his name. I think he had one.
you come get me. Listen
. Listen.
entire audience is there. A little kid age, approximately. He preferred to sit in the middle of the pit. Neglecting the grand lodge Central. It has not really grown up. But he understood. It no entrance. The light is spread, cut up and the first battalions of instruments and after installing his survey of the bottom of the throat to the ramp, fold it down the bird on his watch black tuxedo.
I wonder what you would like us to play tonight.
I feel the wet pavement. I smell. I feel like a concerto click locks. I sleep on the porch. I spend my time in aquaria. I try to wait all that seems even power. The streams are aneurysms. The air may become hoarse. I must fit at home.
But is it here, this tower and that mouth, which sends shuttle barbarian at the peak of outbreaks of puffery. Is this the suitcase does not open and is awaiting an appalling crime enough to enjoy the diversion and belong to the new jewel of death. Here the point behind the glass trafficker his indifference to climate whiteness, a soulless north, a canal with locks taxidermy. Here the ebb and tracings on the walls of a choppy sentence which can not invent more than a snake to distill his gout ulcerated.
The small box theater. The small amusoir to view. The ondoyeur of ceilings. The whisperer locks decoded. The mail transport. And the wardrobe from the bowels. Everything is intact. That side. In the hollow of my palm. My palm printer. My palm print on the walls that hold me in jail for your abdication. My palm on the walls of your negative freedom. A bat hitting the rock to find the mechanism of collapse, and you find yourself naked, like us, or me, or everyone. Or person. As a person.
hearing your question. This is only a matter of mirror. It writes itself. The Governor of the Islands Darienford knew something. I do not remember if it was rather Instead, young or old. In its kind it was also not the only one to know. In the black tuxedo there was also material. Needle and thread, there was material everywhere. Hence the multiple territorial extensions.
No, we're not competing for who has the best kept. The best preserved. None left to die her little voice.
It is perhaps nothing more than a few whales awaken slumbering beneath urban horizons where you was spinning at full speed along their flanks reassuring. And perhaps it may just as well stay there, even snooze for centuries before a boy is interested.
You're right: nothing is more useful than that.
Just that I do not know anything, anything, yes, something can always happen.
No more.
And we know, anyway. If you go pick us up. I do not teach you
that any prison is a thief.
I ask you a question.
you noticed. Not a question. A novel. I wonder
mine. That, perhaps you're asking me.
So I see the distance. You'll show me. You see.
you come get me.
Yes. But
me: I am still here.
A novel. The opportunity to give a first name and age to unfortunate Governor of the Islands of Darienford. To discover its history or why he would not. Is released from his spell. And then program something for tonight. Because then the kid in the middle of the concert hall, he waits.

Pos And Neg Of Damiana

Lack

elements had disappeared? Who? What kind of constraint could he believe that upside and absence, where he wondered, was poor. With what purpose. If one could suspect any determination.
There was that day. No smoke. Glass sky. In glass. Four doses of bitter flowers. An end box of candy. A joke. And, I think, three tangerines. But there is no way to be sure. What is good is that the next day it could be worse. And two days later, even worse. And the fourth day. The fifth. The sixth. In the spot because there is no ramp and that it can be replaced. Then by ceasing to count because we realize slowly that is wrong. That there is more. That became entangled dates. We need to ramp.
story is absurd: he goes, goes. Must go back there to get a meager living, but it will still each time further and puts more and more time to return, however there are less and less to survive, until it will take days and nights to come back and that n 'there is virtually nothing, he will, all that remains, and walk away, walk away and never return. Never again.
Maybe that way he'll start talking from there. From where he goes.
Maybe that way as he will start to feel the full body of a quill blast.
is a very special round. With deprivation. Shedding would he say too. A coming and going back many centuries. And power when sandy and difficult to corrosion, latches fall into dust and you have to stop to ask why we do not rise, we do not grow, we do not jump was one of those with access anger he resigns his shoulders and outstretched arms to hold the walls still far enough apart.
I think probably three mandarins and other details about as insignificant because they are the only traces of which he might have noted the existence without this kind of a regular whose anonymity is precious. The remaining queries, which look junior although he knows will settle for determining wind, fog, face hidden for hours until, perhaps, that there is more and that there has more than laugh.
For now the hunger is not yet dry. It smacks of humus and it makes a sticky warmth.
As it often happened that he does not know if it went in the right direction. He did not suffer more than a vague unease that his view of whiteness fleeting. Usually, with nothing withheld information gleaned, relying on the impression of having understood, not omitting the reverse this impression, he relies on a guide within which inclines should happen if this or that, or rather if anything should happen. Then gradually, as he reached the first steps he looks around him which may have seemed familiar and he confirmed that he borrowed the track. Follow the right instructions.
This time it's much harder to deduce. There are many others who are there to him. The edges. Seated in small groups or isolated. Standing and meticulously scrutinizing each cardinal point. Women. Men. Young, very young, so young. There are slow conversations, full of caution. Hardly audible. Objects that show travel. The only sign that reassured him that he has compared these bags undecided dental caries. It was not away but he is not fooled. There are hearts floating in the waters overwhelmed. Looks crumbly. If he was not mistaken. S'indifférent ages. There would, correctly pointed out, that would not have to be sure of that. It is the irony of this situation.
What has frequently impeded his progress was the absence of poverty. Not that which spared him the possible pitfalls pity. Rather than cling to which the abscissas tough to runes tired. Or the one against which the psalms effigies huddle with frayed ropes. Those around which stiffen sugars victorious attacks of madness. With their sacrificial additives.
The absence of poverty. And the eye on purpose, amorphous and resigned.
Yes, it was time to leave. Finally, it depended more on the quality of a blade. The expected duration of one day. Lack
was reduced to a state of mind of alcohol. He decided to try the scroll cocked.
He had read about it. And it was really like to imagine a river down through the Sahara. And more. There was no question of seeing him speak. For him to come. With gold and balms. Praises and lamentations. Make-up and stylus to trace a heroism, weakness, a knee to the bone, a profile adored. He would talk about later. Without him. About disappeared. Archaeological. Without his skin. Intact or torn. Just as emancipated. Freedom so dearly purchased once spent everything we do care that the most basic clothing finish. He would talk after that. Dykes zinc where small fishing boats swaying in glow, a little embarrassed and a little proud too. Small storage plush leather or yellowing of epitaphs for the graves concessions automatically renewable. Hip harmonics lying on beaches constantly reinvented worthy of lamentation exiled peoples.
Yes, that's right: talking about there. Do more with
. Apart from immodesty. The smile he has deftly sewing is not to make fun and nothing worse. To see peace, plain-hearted, which is still struggling, by far, more later, the animal laws that disguises honors. And
new properties. Chemical and physical. Even disappear. But do not appear. To purchase a street just by walking the length. Miss-shek and review the list of basic needs. Rework the worst. Swaying under the hammer dates awarded. Melt the elements organic to the hard to reach the cave and write it, chisel, with laughter, this story perfectly expected, because, even though it was not all that to be told by a criminal that bewitched it would only be a joke to fill the None. A little easier to sum it up well when you have legs dripping with blood. And we are even able to go behind the blood to tell what is going on. Behind the death. Behind the death. Behind the crime. Behind the flesh. Any wounds. All flesh. Behind the love too. Beyond. And looking back, watch and say: "This is what I see. And say.
Recently I saw: after starting the countdown of days. Already he had forgotten the ramp. He vaguely compared to others, young, very young, so young. On the one hand to verify where he was partly to dissociate. Was found in peel mandarins. Drawings have been found. Entries to some. Looks like the plans. Routes. Songs, it's possible.
Hard to know if he is really gone.
Difficult to know if it is just a sign that the lack may make elusive. And the end
arrive early for many different reasons and in many other forms as we know it.

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end and red lure

What 2010 (you) (you) (him) to be: soft and sometimes hard. Beauty and nails. Strong and tender. Thinker and thinking. Poetics. Human humanizing. Cuddly and penetrating. Greedy and hungry. Muscled and caressing. Reflective. Democrat. Visionary and lucid. Sweet and acid. Disobedient. Angry and talkative. Dazzling and groping. Humorous. Modest and bravado. Insolent and attentive. Other, love and disturbing. Provocative and thoughtful. In the kidneys and neck. Voluntary and wise. Opposite and intelligent. Dreamy. Ocean. Salty and juicy. Hilarious. Policy. Demonstrative. Generous. Curious. Indiscreet. Weaver. Sensual. Observer. Patient. Jardiniere. Reader. Fruitful. Charmeuse. Flexible and deployed. Highly touted and sincere. Warlike and pacifist. Naked and hot. Alcohol and narcotics. Gracious. Loose. Philosopher. Worthy. Serious. Shivering. Hot. Exciting. Engaged. Inventive. Traveler. Foreign. Binding. Binder. Mysterious. Planing. Walker. Tiring. In the hollow of a shoulder. Hand in hand. A full arms. A full mouth. Creative. Grinning. Fragrant. Music. Carnal. Inspired. Shares. Glimmering. Dancing. Breathless. Astonishing. Extravagriffouillante. Velvetiness claws. Gently biting. Voluptuous. Flowers solitary. Multiple happily. Astral. Earth. Foaming. Protester. Protest. Valiant. Adventurous. Astonished. Playful. Distracted. Finding. Vagualâmante (or vagualâmant). Shimmering. Seductive. Seamstress. Cooked. Electric. Eclectic. Dazzling. Intoxicating. Free. Fellowship. Playful. Surprising. Learning. Child. Princely. Golden. Vagabond. Teacher. Air. Effervescent. Courageous. Worker. Tree. Naturifiante. Friendly. Understanding. Art. Imaginative. Future and past. Comely and secret. Hope. Singing. Pensive and whispering. Intuitive. Promising. Delusional.
I mean full of life!
Full of life!
Full of life!
short as one year as either should or may have been like all the previous ones and as will be following all!
Allez hop! On the Job !
(Perhaps I missed something ... J'compte on you for updates, or night ...)