Like A Rabid Writter.... TYPING TYPING.....oasihfoasdhcschschscnss........ There I was sitting on the old sofa inside my imagination... A Sip of RED WINE and then SPITTing my own toughts out from my head. Here I was ( Breathing sounds) inside my winter mood. It was ready to GO, taking the flight to LEAVE the soul behind.
Now I am getting ready for the summer waste of my life.... One or two more snow-ice falling storms to let the seasson run away as a fugitive. DESTINATION: OUR OWN DAMN ego waterfalls.... R E S T A R T S E S S I O N...