Yesterday night rockabilia deanbulando the open field I met a rhino giraffe-necked silver and mammoth nose. Sat under tree withered leaves and matchmaking, facing forward, staring at bright fluttering swallows, I greeted him and sat down beside her, took her hand and asked him to tell me something about it, at first refused, but after several strokes, some less innocent than others, told me about her dreams and fantasies about what life is truly in the wilds of the totally unknown and what it means to really fly on the wings of cardboard. He told me about his childhood and premarital sex, fantasies and allusions about strange beings who do not know, I do not want to know, but fascinated and amazed me the point of wanting to love in their repugnance.
When he had stopped to tell me his life and philosophy that I have told you green dogs cats dying with drug traffickers, but did not hear me, the bastard he would not attempt to listen, he only thought about their needs, their desires and pleasures, the type heard nothing of what I said, even when I opened my heart and told him about the greatest pain of my soul, about the abuses they ran over me, of anguish and agony I felt when I popped open on my total when they face the rain without skin and took it as accurate as the certainty that nothing is real and that nothing really matters, since we only live in a world of thanks anonymous and useless ways. After hours of tears and emotions allegorical, after hours of attempts the bastard looks away from the swallows, he just stopped, just looked at me in silence as he spoke, and ended when he noticed that stilled my babbling, I just said his mother was a hound dog with a farmer and his delivery was exposed through egg and from an anorexic teenage love ... But then I said something I will never forget. He said: "Some people never get out of themselves, never able to really get into others and deceive themselves with a vagina that gives shelter and warmth, but not love." With this I was paid ...
When he had stopped to tell me his life and philosophy that I have told you green dogs cats dying with drug traffickers, but did not hear me, the bastard he would not attempt to listen, he only thought about their needs, their desires and pleasures, the type heard nothing of what I said, even when I opened my heart and told him about the greatest pain of my soul, about the abuses they ran over me, of anguish and agony I felt when I popped open on my total when they face the rain without skin and took it as accurate as the certainty that nothing is real and that nothing really matters, since we only live in a world of thanks anonymous and useless ways. After hours of tears and emotions allegorical, after hours of attempts the bastard looks away from the swallows, he just stopped, just looked at me in silence as he spoke, and ended when he noticed that stilled my babbling, I just said his mother was a hound dog with a farmer and his delivery was exposed through egg and from an anorexic teenage love ... But then I said something I will never forget. He said: "Some people never get out of themselves, never able to really get into others and deceive themselves with a vagina that gives shelter and warmth, but not love." With this I was paid ...
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