saiu juntando tudo, todas as coisas soltas, as largadas, deixadas, as guardadas, todas, como quem diz “to indo, realmente indo”. Ficaram pra trás - esquecidas ou deixadas, não sei ao certo - as fantasias, ainda desavisadas da distância do carnaval.
XCIII. Not you, who doesn't wanna talk. It's not yours to read. That moment
is yours, this one is all mine. I don't have anything else to share with
you.
-
I can't anymore.
I haven't got 10 years left in me.
I just can't, this is torture
To never finding a way to make it right
To always miss tha...
Há 10 horas