N G R 16: Karl (g-francais.blogspot.com)
Saldanha... 37
Ciclistas na estrada
Things that people do, then write and say, sometimes embarrassing themselves.
All is good, great, the feasts in the big apple. All was good and seemed right.
Then the fall. The chains and down on the knees. At the mercy of the dogs. Those who have taken away consciousness and control, by all means, using substances, scientologies and fireworks. No matter what, no matter who. What matters to them is their interests and job and not the person. Those that took the consciousness and control of a person, the body and the soul of a person. That caused the person to get lost.
She wrote it along the way and time. She *ing loves these things. She *ing loves to do, write and say these things to me. She lives for it and from it.
Homeless, lonely and needy.
Some fantasy and dreams within, reality, things happen, and this is the beautiful piece of shit.
Well, the person was a little lost in time and space. Homeless, without roof, feeling lonely and needy. The first spark that crossed the front would jump into the fire. Lonely and needy and wanting to jump, jumped. Jumped into the reward and the dogs smiled and barked. Did their job.
Rearwards in exchange of scientologies.
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