As I reached that big red door, my eyes opened. A sweet sound. The white cat came to me. I spotted a yellow daisy, and I went near her. A flower calms me, and transports my soul to a different state of mind. That´s why the door is a symbol of transition. A transportation and mutation of my soul is always welcome.
A cry bursted. A green forest invaded my mind. A "bharruda" with a Paquistani accent and the image of a burka made me think that the most significant door is not always open. The door of the Mind.
And a vase of the Ming dinasty crashed in my kitchen floor
And a big Kebab assaulted my dreams
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ninguém bitaita neste blog?????
dahhhhhhhhhhhhhh
kiss,
c.
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