Sometimes certain days are empty and useless as blunt sticks.
Whether you realize it useless, but you can not get up off the couch and make something decent.
And the hair remain locked in a clamp , and feet in slippers, and head in a cloud of nothing.
But no tomorrow. Like hell it will be a useless day.
You can not brutalize it.
be the reason why I hate Sundays, and contrary to what he says Vasco, I love Monday!
The hook with its halo of possible life, with its slow start, his awakening nervous.
The love for the school and the work begins again, I love it because it makes me feel alive and dragging me out of the house and forces me to look everywhere, everything and everyone to finally see my way, my plane, my train.
I love him because I always believe that something is about to change!
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