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| was the year 2006, he ran like hell. |
There was a time when we spent our afternoons chatting in and out of the classroom study, the tests do not scare us, we had our life to live. And the priorities of our lives were the talk and faffing around. We were shooting the city with the steak in the bag paper, we slept on sofas or destroyed on a mattress on the floor because we did not everyone just stay home. Vasco We listened and we walked, we walked as much as we talked, the sun, rain and Bora.
Now we are in a secret group on facebook, that I could cry just thinking of sadness. Everyone in front of his fucking PC. Those who work, who always university, who at home, who lost to the other side of the globe in a new land. And we do a lot of laughter, always shoot the same shit. And to rediscover love each other. We discover that everything changes, but we do not. That would be great to live as we did long ago. Eating cookies John, go to make a drink at cost or dance like idiots to Mandracchio. But John has moved house and his mother certainly did not prepare multiple cookies every week, Costa certainly do not know anybody, and there are only Mandracchio adolescents and Almir wonder if there is still free to let us in and Andrea to make the cock. The pier would still like us, he did. To sing like idiots to the stars or the fog. And our head-in-b-so-special at the bar they always do with economics. And the brioche at three in the night still sold in bakeries. It would be nice.
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