sounds a score of Virgin Steele, one of those with the issue of marriage between heaven and hell. A joint of Mary of which is consumed tulip knows next to me and threatens to strike, shutting down. My taste buds are reveling in the memory of the last spoonful of bienmesabe. I cherish the fog that characterizes the microclimate of my room and for a moment, perhaps even a second, I realize how happy I am. I smile. Noto well as my facial muscles are agitated trying to get to where they had never before reached in a grimace of happiness. Shout, No! I do, I contain my joy but raise my arms and let out a deep sigh.
That's when the moment unravels before me, I'm reaching to the head and I decided to take a hit the laptop and write how I feel, because I am happy and I want everyone to know .
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