Happy for no reason, happiness without warning.
Joy, perhaps more modestly.
Happiness is a big, big word, do not be vulgar for no reason, it shocks the children, the elderly and the virginal ears, which is far from my intention precisely because it is with the virgins the elderly and children that I feel connected as by the influence the cosmos. Cosmos that would suddenly decided it would be my turn for a moment of intrigue, to find that piece of sky beautiful, marveling at the sweetness of life in early May, will distribute my incredibly gaiety, since my bundle, the needy.
Just for you my good lady.
Ouhla and then you, with that ugly head, he should not worry too badly. Take it. But if, for goodness sake, take it, I swear, you can not decently miss such an opportunity.
galore Distribute freely, careless of what remains for me because I do not care: anyway, I produce, I secretes is a bottomless pit of smiles and brotherly hugs my body and my heart abound.
But I'm not really me. Because I'm really not like that.
One has to ask a filter on my retinas or install blinkers on the corner of my temples. I do not tell me not to say that it will not last and that I will profit a maximum before the spell does not rise or falls, instead, on another lucky. This is the secret of my joy: time slips on me as if he was never going to damage the dimples of my lips curled into the future. A
nothing can make me switch to the other side, dark, and getting back into the stark reality. In the gray sky that has invaded and which agrees with the zinc roofs of the city, and my eyes, perhaps. An early walk
evil, a door that I closed in my face, a look at my bank account. Opportunities and banana peels are not lacking, but I miss the account, finely miss them without making noise or giving them any kind of value, ignore them, really. Ignore copiously until tomorrow which is just another day, it seems.
And tomorrow, I promise I will make drunk with you in the subway, I get angry the phone against the incompetence of counsel EDF, I plague in the supermarket queue and I will cut index with the vegetable peeler where it bleeds we knew damn well we had not much hyperactive vessels here. Even if it requires to do so much good will.
I will do it, ok, but only tomorrow.
Juror, I will be, as my usual, execrable wake up until noon and not convenient. After that, it is better not to get too close because hunger will begin to rack my mood. Phase of digestion, I have not much to say and then I sleepiness, suddenly your meaningless words to me weary ears. At 18h, strangely, I felt the beginnings of the first meeting of the day to see all these rednecks stick together in cars to return to their soaker furnished so you do not miss the rediff 'a series of police force. At 20h, finally, my first smile happen with my first glass of wine. Afterwards, I was a 2nd boierai and I go back about my miserable life on a blog, or until I boierai Burgundy or dry and I wake up so if I wake up with a head that would combine the main features magically seal and those of Mickey Rourke, to about.
Which is not to improve my mood, which, as I have said, however, did not need that.
So let me play the happy until tomorrow.
meantime, please do not bottle the route from my little cloud.
I'm there for anybody.
-maispastrop-
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