And these fucking wants to eat you in verses, to recite you with my hands or it will be that the ballantine’s clouds my sanity. But this anguish that rustle me against the glass is so real that, how it can be madness? If every night the owl is who puts out at my window and I feel how it stifles among some ice cubes, cold sheets that cover me. And if in reality all is a fit of sincerity, help it by the alcohol and the hours in solitude, what they call to the fucking need.


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31 comentarios en “Alcohol 

  1. Dear friend

    Yes, alcohol is indeed a bad friend, it asks for a small finger but at the end it takes your whole hand…
    We call it also: the devil in the bottle – then one is captured in a kind of circle – you have to drink more, to feel better but in the end you lose everything…so better to stay totally away from this false «friend», because it does not provide any solutions, instead it offers more and more problems – it is a labyrinth of the mind in which it is very hard to find the way out…

    Thanks for sharing and have a good time

    Le gusta a 1 persona

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