Pantybuns, Duckyporn, Bathroomsex: Thoughts and Feelings

The bitter coffee, salty tears and adhesive treacles pristavuchie thought. How to suspend their endless stream? How to hide in the shells obtuse thoughtless existence? Forget not to think, not to dream, not bogged in the vague conjecture. Disappear as a species, as Homosapies. I do not want to think! After all, live pigeons same ruins. They fly in the gradient cornice with peeling paint, suddenly bread crumbs and coo. No thoughts about nerealizovannosti, exclusion and social utility. Rock knights not give their girlfriends doubt their attractiveness, not agonize problems diversity in family life. Birds simply together, they soar in the blue, hatching chicks and teach them to fly, instinct and obeying the law of nature, which does not regulate love, and championed the feelings, as the main driving force zhizni.A we? Conscious! What do we have?
We mnogomudrye, think of yourself so many rules and conventions that have already themselves do not recall their exact meaning. How easily we disapprove of their own, such strong, belief. Doubt, alone, korotaem lunar night, exhausted from his and others' thoughts. I do not want to, I did not want to torment their fragile brains question "Why do I live?" -- I want to live!
I am not wanted, prizhimayas to you, think "Are we approaching a friend of a friend?" -- I wanted to love! I chose you, eluding Volume unknown attraction, which arises out of cynical awareness. You was my vote, not by the will of the mind, and call on the flesh.
We were good together, and while we were OK, I will not conceived nor чем.Но then weeping on the phone ringing, breaking the night of "before" and "after" and not leave the choice to me, went into a deep quagmire of deception and understanding errors. The night looked Věra evil eye. Indifference sky in a white window frame. The pain.
I came to the edge of pain thoughts mixed with bitter coffee and salty tears. Why do they come from? To give honors last dying feelings? Who called them? Why do they have in my imagination gorjachka imagination, wearing a mask soboleznuyuschuyu humility: Obzhigayuschy sip-and extremely acute outbreak speculate: The purpose of their arrival - a comparison. Comparison goodness sensual bezmysliya to calm meaningful drunk. What better? What's easier? I do not compromise between them?
I smykayu eyelashes, caching for centuries its sinful nature. I suddenly realized that compromise is not. Dream of one, by the will of supervisory judgement, we do a friend, and when aware of the error, came the thought. Their birth to our brains as antibodies, as immunity to the new possibilities of errors.
But the fluttering eyelashes raised feelings, and the snake on my cheek unexpected tears, sweeping all barriers that severely delicate mind. I do not want to think, I want to feel like pigeons.