I love you, the most handsome lightness of love, the purest form. The most innocent. Without blacking out an orchid. Excited as if a balloon would fly away.

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I’m still listening to a song I’m listening to, my unbearable romantic yes. I’m drowning in laughter, the most soulful cascade of the doludizgin river.

Emotional comedy, drama in which genres love movies; ah ah I’m not accepted. Who wants to be good? I’m fine. It’s true I’m drawn to my shell a little bit. However, I know that someone on that road will always turn on the light. Just patience.

And I say to myself, who, what, who and what. What I’m saying is what you’ve lost is perhaps the most elegant way of life asking me where I know it. Because at the end of every tired long queue you expect to live like a turn of your turn. In spite of every difficulty, take the step of thankfulness to the day you breathe.

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Waiting for the fall to embrace the spring. Blending black and white in powdered pink, kneading in green, finding yellow and reaching blue.