In fact I have nothing to say.
Sometimes things if they are holed up in the fractures of you, and get them out seems impossible. That is those pretty ugly ones. And, boh. It will be the nostalgia already too strong, or concern. It will be the anxiety of the exam. It will be the feeling of leaving too many things-awareness, to the truth. It does not have the mental strength to deal with None. Maybe because they are always the same, I will.
But I'm tired. And there were very few positive notes from Friday morning when I came back.
I want a share. So, why I want to.
I found this photo last night, and I can not stop looking. Because here the model of my Chris is a natural and beautiful, with that nose a little sleepy and fever, and a little sensual, and somewhat innocent, and some other things. I turn in my head, tied to the character. And Chris has * exactly * this' expression, I would say very often. It 's so, my foxy. And I love him.
I love this picture because it reminds me of Chris and how he should be back.
Sooner or later. Now the result of OT is more or less killing me. OA is a continuous pain.
And perhaps rightly so.
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