Awakening has made me more and more heavy, open your eyes and look at the ceiling with paint destroyed, watching my clothes thrown over my room while my thunder cold feet when moving.
My head full of thoughts that fill my pillow, while my hair covers my ears try to concentrate on the sound the air makes the atravezarlo my window, my dry mouth whispers my dreams, trying to remember the life that created his sleep.
think that dreams are real and simple life is a slumber that was created when thoughts together.
Maybe ...
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