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THOUGHTS


Pirilao
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DEAR PEOPLE - thoughts

 

For my father and mother, daughter and wife.

 

She has people that they mark our lives, and without knowing,

in they fill them with the joy, In the affection emanated of a simple

ones to look at.

 

 

 

The souvenirs always visit me In this long trip of the mind Bringing

with them good moments That for me never will be forgotten.

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@Pirilao: Thoughts no sentido de "dedicat?ria" ou no sentido de "pensamentos aleat?rios"?

Tanto faz irm?o o importante ? o sentido das palavras .

exp: podes fazer uma dedicat?ria a tua namorada , ou escrever um pensamento sobre ela wink.gif

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Kisses ,

 

Between kisses and caress to start our long dawn In

this trip, I command and travel following a traced map already.

 

I deliver to your burning caress At the supreme moment of the desire

I ask For the divinal touch of your insolent hands In the will of

being caress and being satisfy.

 

Where you take me to the insane delirium That heats me, I shudder at it, the soul In gasping whispers and grumbles I am a man and the loving

one in this instant.

 

I leave to be possessed for your desires Mixed to mine e, deliver

myself entirely! In the swing flesh time I slide for its body That is

wet, for the ecstasy of our love and in we love them foolishly, in

this fondness without modesty.

 

In the sublime stream bed of the desire, we are satisfy and hugged

we rest, wet for the fever Provoked for the sensuality, of the interminable orgasms.

That had lead our satiate of the meat.

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...N?o tenho nenhuma ainda ~_~ Mas pra isso que servem o resto dos miser?veis que assolam minha vida (:

 

*ahem*

 

To my parents, to forgiving me for ruining their 5-long year relationship-- by making them settling down and finally marrying. And for the roof, the bed, food, teachings, plain old love and lots of Job-like patience.

 

To grandpa, for teaching me how to brawl, for the 10 reais he gave me every once in a while, for all the cusses I know to this day.

 

To grandma, not only for burning my toys and saying that they had something to do with satan-- just like everything, since the Capeta's a true artist, but for teaching me manners, for all the support and lemonge juice, a mix of orange juice and lemonade, and for giving me my first Bible.

 

To everyone who hurt me in my life. Being hurt, as the name may hint, hurts, but makes one's mind tougher.

 

To all my ephemerous friends. Most are gone due to school, changes in life, and et cetera.

 

To my uncle Aristarcho, who taught me to never join the army, by only being a paranoid Airborne colonel.

 

 

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