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3 ... 2 ... 1 ... Fire. Eva Desnudísma

The touch of a few words from you to my wait out sparks. Sparks increase in direct proportion to your words. The air you breathe out those sparks directed towards me. I find that my area there is fuel. I light.
The fire that comes in my area because of the sparks produced by rubbing a few words from you with my hopes, I throw everything that can be embarrassing. Drafts of millions of cards that you expected, three bus tickets, two photos, a drawing and excuses. And of course, to you. Throw you into the fire in my area and I find that there're also fuel and we both like playing with fire.

Loud Squeal On A Performa Maytag Washer

versus the Infinite

Will I or stay? I bite the forbidden fruit "or I resist? Do I speak or corn? Would you say or not say? Do I think or act? "I insist and desist? Questions or respond? "Watches or eternity? "I obey or rebel? Am I the rules or that my desire is law? A piece of land or infinite? Did Adam and a piece of land in Eden or the infinite bare and free to me? Do you know or unexpected?
Paradise "or freedom?
Paradise "or freedom?
Paradise "or freedom?
Paradise "and freedom?
"Paradise is freedom?
Freedom, freedom, liberty, freedom, liberty, freedom, liberty, freedom, freedom ...
And then drugged by the ripple effects of that word, of that mantra irresistible bite the forbidden fruit. Lost paradise, I make myself and finally embrace freedom.