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Somebody called her an artist. Somebody called her a writer. But she was a visionary who. Painted life with her pen. The diary was her canvas. And her brush strokes were. Neat and deep, deep buried. In her eyes, like the shells in the sand. Her mind was a beach of thoughts. That visioned the sky as a bird. From the herd of people,. In her womb just like a pearl in the sea. The only pearl with the shine. And lust created by her own hands. Of stale and flaccid coat.
Way to go, Mia! The recipe for a sweet disposition and a decently made-up face definitely consists of late nights and late night snacking. What do I do? WHAT .
Photo du voyage au brésil du 10 au 23 juillet 2005. Retape dans le champ ci-dessous la suite de chiffres et de lettres qui apparaissent dans le cadre ci-contre.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009. I have started reading the book of Proverbs. I have my place marked by the Lights of Remembrance. Try to preach or act like I know everything about the Lord and His word. I could read the Bible cover to cover until I die and I can find something new and wondrous. All my love in Christ,. Tuesday, March 3, 2009. God is always with you. My preacher told a joke in church on Sunday. In the car, hold hands and laugh. Seat and said, who moved? .
Retape dans le champ ci-dessous la suite de chiffres et de lettres qui apparaissent dans le cadre ci-contre.
Mdash; Leave a comment. I lay in my bed, that day, pretending to be asleep. Had you put on a facade of lies of who you were? Your hands replaced your lips. The same hands that had written memories of you and I. The same hands that I had memorized. Mdash; Leave a comment.
There is something wrong with me. My mind is filled with Radio cure. There are a few things that bother me right now.