Wilt, more in brightness, I am a winter person, any more in the favor of cold blush. the packing of year to the point of being more poor that the start, the poor choices and decisions would not stop haunting almost the same thing as the influenza of one year of long. The paper of sweets was in my pocket at all times, sympathy. There is smoke, rather well of it makes it, I cannot see painting your painting, I cannot represent description as you shout, I can hear you improved and it is the words which you use, no need to shout. The light in the ceiling flickers with music on time, we are kids no more therefore also let us flicker, happy and sad. I do not domicile any more in your country of marvels, Alice, the mad hatter without a home.
“While you wait on the answers, that I'll pretend to find,
Keeping up with emotions, still occupies our time,
You could hope for substance as long as you like
Or just wait out the evening, you'll always ask me why,
Yes you'll only bleed me dry, I'll ask you
Kindly to make your way,”
"While You Wait for the Others" Grizzly bear
