The strength of my pulse is in the action it takes on an analysis of my own personality. I cherish contemplative solitude in a systematic construction of absurd thoughts. I have no certainties, I have prints, I have no intelligence, I have intuition, and feel is to think and see, is playing with his hands on my conscience, sit up without waking, a continual tiredness. That paragraph I of nature, thus I'm just myself, and not even gray, or darkness, ambiguity, no color contrast in the night nothing left Time to falter after the peace of another wait. Abdicated all, I go away even distance and emptied of all disorders, portrait inevitable chaos. Here, one should reflect the picture of those images.
MSN ... desordeneslineales@hotmail.com
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