Sometimes I feel love. It penetrates every inch of my body and becomes me from inside. It is provoked by little things, unpredictable revelations, like enjoying replying to a person you’ve never considered your friend or a foggy morning when you can’t see anything further than you reaching hand. 

about masturbation

eventually I stopped, because a cramp fettered bladder

about facebook

Facebook is a nice place, maybe the only place I can talk to my friends being absolutely naked.

Sometimes I get scared of myself. I can’t control it.

So I so the sea cost of Barcelona from the plane. It was beautiful. I felt nothing.

it makes me sick

You know what I hate most about people - it’s when they are chameleons, when I see how a person acts absolutely different in front of another person, says something absolutely different compared to what he shared with you a couple of minutes ago. Those people disgust me in a songle mone tif though those couple of minuted ago I felt we had something in common. Not anymore, not now. Sorry, not sorry. 

I wish I had time. But I can’t. No one can. It’s literally unbearable.

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These days of month

I caught myself upon thinking that every month for a period of 5 days or so I am literally dieing, little by little, dop by drop, month by month, if you know what I mean. It is not supposed to be like that. 

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