's almost 3 am.
And there's nothing like reading and listening on Apartheid Motörhead. For some reason, reminds me of my trip to Leeds, who never counted and finally not because I prefer to tell the stories live and recorded on the head like good shows, not those filled with idiots now raising the camera every few minutes, taking a dim memory and a false sense of having fun, like a powder overnight. I guess
Boers strange sensations perfect proportions, with people displaced which in turn moved. Yesterday holding his head, listening to the fury of one who has felt what happened in Venezuela as if he had played up close. It is to be aware of what is happening in the world makes you feel you want to have no conscience. Is to bring it to light when you see that you really should touch us closely. However, tomorrow I'll rise, I'll go run and come back to take a shower and have breakfast while reading Thursday and give me a little bit sleepy realize what we are and what we are sheep for the part that touches Wednesday's satire.
If Mandela lifted his head ... they were blind, the sun hits fine thing in South Africa.
Sorry, I could not help it. Is there too much pressure, many classes, many jobs, in order ... 