I remember when looking at the screen in full darkness brought up future reflections.
It is surely tricky to dig the fact that natural trends will always dominate. A loser is a loser. It has been written, not by abstract forces but by our backyard pasts. We have proof sitting there and always, yet we succumb to hope. Hope takes us hostage, that very awful construct.
I wish I was idol, oh Idaich. ¿Debería de escribir en español? Nunca te aprendiste una palabra.
