Je voudrais pouvoir me trouver dans une love story où une musique douce et agréable se joue en arrière d'un discours incomprehensible mais tellement beau qu'il m'en ferrait couler une larme. La musique s'emballe, et le soleil se couche : c'est le moment du baiser.
burp!
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed- interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit- crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life... But why would I want to do a thing like that? I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? there are no reasons.
who needs reasons when you've got heroin?
J'adore les cacahuètes.Tu bois une bière et tu en as marre du gout.Alors tu manges des cacahuètes.Les cacahuètes, c'est doux et salé, fort et tendre.Manger des cacahuètes,"its a really strong feeling".Et après tu as de nouveau envie de boire une bière.Les cacahuètes, c'est le mouvement perpétuel à la portée de l'homme
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