punching games…

maine va trebui sa marchez un punct, ca semn de avertisment ,
intr -un meci ce nu-si avea rostul… is satul insa de prieteniile din
interes si de amarul gust ce-l simt ades dupa un alt astfel de
experiement. e drept, inca-s acel copil ce se dezmeticeste vazand
contrastul dintre utopica-i lume si lumea cea reala… mai am insa
credit, asa ca voi incepe sa rup pisica-n doua (milioane)…
Was just peering down through your blue skies this morning.
you see the same when you look up? Crystal clear, azure, indigo,
cobalt -kind-of-magical? There really are no words for it. Lovely!
even pales. And to think you get to live under it every single day of
your life, knowing that even with the cloudiest and dreariest weather,
just above the mist there exists such iridescent splendor. As if to
hint at what forever might look like, to remind you of your infinite
reach, and to make clear life’s perfection. Because if such beauty can
exist in the sky alone, with only a palette of blue, imagine what else
this artist can do.

Sometimes, to be honest, it’s all so beautiful it makes my heart skip.

Oh deary me, of course I have a heart! And when it’s not skipping or jumping for joy, it’s beating inside of yours.

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