The end of days. I can feel it coming.
I can feel it crawling down my foot and it's making my toes numb.
I can smell that burning smell of the last forgotten slice of bread in the toaster that started the fire.
As if I've got a fucking charisma.
Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me!
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they say jump, you say how high.
kathenas me ton pono tou :I
Entertain the curiocity of a stranger, if you please. I'd like to know how come you are writing some posts in English. That is, if you think there is a reason behind it.
Hello stranger.
Reason? Who said anything about reason?
I write in whatever language I seem to feel I can express myself at that time. And I seem to do the same when talking as well.
I guess I could ask you back the same question.
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