Post by account_disabled on Mar 11, 2024 0:00:42 GMT -6
The as if the risk of being close had suddenly and completely disappeared after these hours we have spent together remembering a world that certainly was just as fierce even more cruel but in which we were hopelessly together. with the same haste as every day because in reality few things have changed not even the work schedule. We have to go out even if we dont want to go out. We have to go out so its not worth entertaining a dilemma that doesnt exist or a question to which we know the answer in advance. Someone has to work and pay the rent food gas all the bills.
Someone has to get up early and wash the blemishes out of their Japan Telegram Number Data and get under the shower. Someone has to comb their hair and then get dressed and curse while getting dressed because what a bitch life the truth what double standards that designate us as essential workers while throwing us daily without the greatest consideration into the arena of the coliseum next to the lions of the virus like the cannon fodder that we are. So here we go then because there is no other way. Or better because there could well be another but there isnt.
Here are the hands that open the doors with the automatic gestures of reluctance barely stopping in the sky that hours later will be painted a heavenly blue but that right now opens little by little in cracks of a sharp and bright red. How beautiful the world is sometimes. The green still hidden among the bushes within the stems of the young oaks on the tips of the already overgrown grass beats like a wounded beast that very soon surely at the slightest provocation will unleash its claw on the world. Meanwhile here we go choosing the music on the radio while the car moves through.
Someone has to get up early and wash the blemishes out of their Japan Telegram Number Data and get under the shower. Someone has to comb their hair and then get dressed and curse while getting dressed because what a bitch life the truth what double standards that designate us as essential workers while throwing us daily without the greatest consideration into the arena of the coliseum next to the lions of the virus like the cannon fodder that we are. So here we go then because there is no other way. Or better because there could well be another but there isnt.
Here are the hands that open the doors with the automatic gestures of reluctance barely stopping in the sky that hours later will be painted a heavenly blue but that right now opens little by little in cracks of a sharp and bright red. How beautiful the world is sometimes. The green still hidden among the bushes within the stems of the young oaks on the tips of the already overgrown grass beats like a wounded beast that very soon surely at the slightest provocation will unleash its claw on the world. Meanwhile here we go choosing the music on the radio while the car moves through.