Very good, I liked mesmo.Daqueles you can see everything, every little thing on your mind knows, pa

"No nordbyen one understands anything." he yelled nordbyen walking down the street while listening to the uproar of the people in the house, picking up the pieces. The iron gate gave a slow and balanced slammed, nordbyen pushed by the wind; This sound a door sealed, marked a break in the line of febrile events and confusingly intertwined seconds, maybe minutes earlier. Compared to the sound of the door slamming, the street nordbyen was a holy peace. That peace of cobblestones, that cold vein, dark and pacífia the street, connecting cozy and bright cálulas-house of this village. Damn peace stones and comforts. He ran fast down one of those silent streets that had the name of faraway places: Gávea, nordbyen Flamengo, Leblon ... expect to get any time of these promises, find the movement, the bars, the pleasant and tropical heat; and especially the sea. At the end of one of these he would find the sea, the boats, the waves and all those things sung in three hundred nordbyen soft music. Damn false promises streets. Continues down at high speed, it seems slow, compared nordbyen to the eternal moments nordbyen inside the house. everything seemed slower, since that gate hit. that gate was pounding as the certainty that the persecution was over. They would be there, in the comfort of your asphyxiation as he ran in the cold of the freedmen. "They who cut his hands on pieces that I left." He goes through that avenue, nordbyen covered nordbyen with people and bars as if it were a desert. "The sea should nordbyen be more forward." More runs, but the walk of peace calls truce, and the stones rise treacherous; he runs faster and faster, almost taking flight; he runs the air. But the night air is thin and cold. He hit the ground at the speed of a plate breaking. Damn false promise of peace. Lying cheek to cheek on the floor, he hears the sound of the waves. "I'm very close. The sea is right there." The avenue of golden vision lifting. fell just before the corner, have you ever listen to swell so loud and clear, so relaxing. It's all he wants. The sound of the sea to calm down, to understand what happened, to think. one last run, now half limps to the end of the street. a slow and painful race, a weekend marathon, where each next step is unreachable. He walks in the heavy rhythm of waves lapping. "It's dark, damn. Where is that sea shit?" For a moment the will tire the body, and runs free in speed. The horns are high, the cars brake and skid, the whole crazy crosses the street. is still dark. still only hear the sound Atlantic. The will run breathless and desperate and finds, surprise, the body hanging behind him. Unos again they descend the abrupt passage leading cement to sand and advance almost crawling, to the water. the body touches the small waves. He wakes up the desperate trance, and smells of sewage. The smell of dirty water, cold, winter. The damn smell of Porto Alegre. * Direct wrote in the post. without review. not notice the possible errors.
I suspected nordbyen from the beginning. thereof. and also thought he was going to hit in the middle for the end of the penultimate paragraph. nordbyen before the horns. Only "tum", and the body doubles. and it is well thou. no, nothing of what you do, but well which gives you will, is in the mind. it seems to me. = D Abração face, you homesick here. At 9:43 AM, Gustavo nordbyen said ...
Slightly ironic always, completely not. My selfishness is so selfish that selfishness is the height of wanting to help ... but that's another story, just remembered the phrase. Have already comment on your text. At 9:49 AM, Gustavo said ...
O! But the philosophical principles of Charmaind-Coltraine not bureaus me say how much I appreciated the hemotúrica crap baboons drooling over very bright two-seaters split white ruffles bleating cries well-ferent bizarre (dap!) To the bench and the cradle. In order hyperbolic terms that the vernacular provides me and, making use of the qualities inherent in prospícua, prosopopoeia, come to say that your ideas, archaic and metaphysical, does not come in handy with the prosaic placidity of my thinking. ^^ At 12:19 PM, JuJu said ...
Very good, I liked mesmo.Daqueles you can see everything, every little thing on your mind knows, passing like a movie ... And I really did not expect this final, I was surprised, end rather strong (not found the right word: P), but I liked the unexpected. Kisses Iu, ah, I confess that I thought I'd close my blog, but I'll try to keep writing. At 9:11 PM, Diego said ...
beautiful narrative, left me breathless in the last moments, really imagined the scene going on! I wish I can write a narrative as agile as well, I'm holding me in detail (the color of the shirt the guy who almost ran over the other was using these things) and my texts are crap ... I think I know only talk about same feeling I always like what you write! Abrasive !! At 10:26 PM, Roberta Bastos Said