hotonsell
motorower
Dołączył: 27 Paź 2010
Posty: 222
Przeczytał: 0 tematów
Ostrzeżeń: 0/10 Skąd: England
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Wysłany: Sob 7:35, 30 Paź 2010 Temat postu: Alcohol, |
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Do not know if anybody actually had no scars will not fall in love with a girl smoking ... ... been hurt a woman, will not fall in love with the wound.
been hurt I think a woman is not in love with the smoke.
smoking is good for those who cherish the memory of the details. Doing a sad, woman, sitting in the smoking scenes in winter depression position, always gave her a strange sour. I guess at this moment,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], her inner pain, just as blue roses bloom.
smoke is short, all the ecstasy of the things that are short, but beautiful because of short-term and more beautiful. By a little injury, would cry, it is a simple girl, but smoking is not easy but a woman cry, select the smoke, it opted for a stunning.
Love is an injury, but the women are in harm to find happiness. Tobacco is also an injury, but at the same time,Grassroots Dialogue How to build a good team, letting a woman forget smoke damage. If we say, non-smoking woman touch of carmine, then suck the woman is a Mandala. Smoke gradually released into the atmosphere, floating ghost is the style and fantasy.
cigarette. For women, what does that mean? Perhaps the peak of passion, perhaps breaking up the Qice. Love does not hurt is not complete. Remember or forget those who loved and hurt people, need to smoke.
smoke is not a physiological need, is a psychological need to smoke.
long, thin, smoke moving in the Qing Qian Zhi Ying burning as that between the deep blue nails, a little deep, a little lazy, a little charming, a little gentle , there is little Sensation.
cigarette, more like a parting.
sat dark orange coffee shop, the fragrance exudes a tranquil, all the sun revolved around the side. Out the window, all of them journey with haste, everyone seems to know their direction. Smoking women, such as the inner surface of a Campsis cold. A yellow book,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], a cup of black coffee, a heart poetry people, back to that shy teenager, then,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], do not understand anything, life is only a light green dream.
footsteps crisp, so all eyes are to stop breathing. Back, like a cloud Sensation, so much the wind to stop singing. Voice, the gentle, sweet,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], more like a burst of rain, so sad, so clean. At that time, as the book is, how many lovely shed tears. But now, not in, because she has become a story of the characters.
the fate of every woman, is a tragedy. Because, for a woman everything is so short. Young,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], imagine a person's palm growing older, that feeling is very warm. Because, then do not understand what is old, thought it was a deep romance. Now, when years of merciless scars carved in the face when they found old is a terrible monster. Old, and that smoke is about to finish burning the moment. Cigarette butts off the press, but also a point, but found her eyes, that hint of wet crystal. Smoke in the quiet burning. Morning coffee shop, like a sleepy young woman, with a light swing low on music.
so much sitting in a chair, as it is stuck in the chair.
a wooden chair that, like a flower, but which lie in a gray rose.
Throughout the morning, are immersed in the warmth of such a chocolate, the one to take a smoke. When three o'clock in the afternoon, people gradually increased, slowly Nueliao Nue body, she wanted to stand up and look, one last cigarette in a cigarette, sat down again,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], point, match zoned light a dim corner, his face revealing traces of deep melancholy.
people's voice, made her uneasy. Smoked did not smoke, got up and left, the pace is very light, position light, like a cat.
then disappeared in the cold December wind, there is no trace of ... ...
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