yet feel the time is pressing.
're okay, are you okay with them and do what really makes you feel good. Yet you know that time is running out. You can not do so forever, that you have an old and fall to the bottom with chain ankle. You're growing up and you can not go on like this forever, because it's ridiculous, inappropriate, wrong. Why will not you be one of those forties who behave as if it had the winds, going back to those who have winds that are performed as those who have twenty.
nostalgic now that you're almost thirty. Thirties, quite a few scares as the word eh? at this time my father had already left home, I understood to be what he is and he abandoned the sinking boat. And me? What are his own age? at least I have to destroy families, not change the fact that scares me even to think. They call it the age of reason, the human being. Some have a company in three decades. Who is filthy rich and who is already dead. But all have something in thirty years. The clock is ticking.
And I do not have programs that are breathing down my neck, no bright future. Only a sea of self-indulgence. Sleep five more minutes. Only five.
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