This morning was miserable,
like the weather.
Gray and dull, slow and senseless.
I feel as sick as the sky,
the wind through my lungs burns on it's way out.
The eve announces the day, so they say...
The morning was miserable,
like the weather.
la manifestación virtual de la existencia humana subjetivamente narrada por un interlocutor que todavia no ha decifrado ni a la vida misma ni a sus consecuencias e ironÃas subyacentes.
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