Really, how infuriating having to turn on the light at six o'clock in the afternoon, because there is no natural light. This nocturnal always reminds me of my days in Barcelona, because when he returned to Barcelona was always in the fall, and the month, and getting dark early hours. I was on the streets steeped in the artificial light of the streetlights.
I remember especially my time of FNAC. The second, when I was a promoter of JVC. More than anything, for the rest it was fifteen minutes, at about quarter to six o'clock. And she went out to refresh myself with the cold wind or cool temperatures, forgetting for a while the heat of the mall. There sitting on a bench, watching people go by. Christmas lights already attached. And everybody lose your ass.
The truth is that it has nothing to do with the pace of life from one place to another. Of course there, in Barcelona, \u200b\u200blived practically in the center. And here in Mallorca, I live in a town where, by removing the four cats that have lived here all my life, the only people stepping on it are the English who come to drink and mess they can not do in England derivatives. Ergo, the only activity in which my "beloved" people is quite a summer. In winter, total abandonment. I think it could be filmed here a vampire movie in plan "30 Days of Night", ignoring the issue of 30 days without daylight, of course.
If one lived in Palma, it would be otherwise. But the truth is that the center does not call me at all. I mean, that's fine because there are more good atmosphere. But a saint is boring. Especially if you do not have a good public transport. And if there is to be with the car up and down, you spend half pay on gasoline, the other half in parking ... and if not spending money on parking fee is spending time looking for free parking. As always, the city has its advantages and disadvantages. But the truth is that I am cosmopolitan, so I do not mind at all living on the edge. It may seem contradictory, after ranting as I missed Santa Ponsa. The question is to find balance.
Well, actually I came to talk about something else, but I am confused with the stupidity of light. He had started the day very happy today because I finally put doing things, after almost a week out (one has to get used to being out of work). I went for my U.S. dollars for the trip to New York, which is becoming closer and, inexplicably, I wish it were further away (I'm starting to get nervous, and I never get nervous for travel ... New York is clear that ... the journey that I've waited all my 25 years!). Nothing fancy, little things that made me smile when you leave home. But, mother, the brief happiness is escaping me each letter I type. I will not elaborate, but not enough, the AMC has canceled me Rubicon. Fucking bastards.
Not much. She was tired of this season, at the airport. Because they have been too much over the summer. I hope that next year the thing is more calm, or at least more bearable. Because the crisis, changes, low, my mother and peritonitis, pregnancy, the insolence and the fucking shuttle, have brought me down the road of bitterness. Until now I always could tell my little Satan would make me laugh and distracted from time to time, but leave you to know what will become of him next year.
Well, no more. I feel that this post is not going anywhere. I want to talk about things I can not yet speak. And I want to mention to things we never stopped talking. So here I stay. I would love to adopt a dog, indeed. But my parents do not want.
I leave there. Or leave you there, which reads. Or do not let anyone. This is desert. If not passed, and I did not pass.
Auf wiedersehen.
I remember especially my time of FNAC. The second, when I was a promoter of JVC. More than anything, for the rest it was fifteen minutes, at about quarter to six o'clock. And she went out to refresh myself with the cold wind or cool temperatures, forgetting for a while the heat of the mall. There sitting on a bench, watching people go by. Christmas lights already attached. And everybody lose your ass.
The truth is that it has nothing to do with the pace of life from one place to another. Of course there, in Barcelona, \u200b\u200blived practically in the center. And here in Mallorca, I live in a town where, by removing the four cats that have lived here all my life, the only people stepping on it are the English who come to drink and mess they can not do in England derivatives. Ergo, the only activity in which my "beloved" people is quite a summer. In winter, total abandonment. I think it could be filmed here a vampire movie in plan "30 Days of Night", ignoring the issue of 30 days without daylight, of course.
If one lived in Palma, it would be otherwise. But the truth is that the center does not call me at all. I mean, that's fine because there are more good atmosphere. But a saint is boring. Especially if you do not have a good public transport. And if there is to be with the car up and down, you spend half pay on gasoline, the other half in parking ... and if not spending money on parking fee is spending time looking for free parking. As always, the city has its advantages and disadvantages. But the truth is that I am cosmopolitan, so I do not mind at all living on the edge. It may seem contradictory, after ranting as I missed Santa Ponsa. The question is to find balance.
Well, actually I came to talk about something else, but I am confused with the stupidity of light. He had started the day very happy today because I finally put doing things, after almost a week out (one has to get used to being out of work). I went for my U.S. dollars for the trip to New York, which is becoming closer and, inexplicably, I wish it were further away (I'm starting to get nervous, and I never get nervous for travel ... New York is clear that ... the journey that I've waited all my 25 years!). Nothing fancy, little things that made me smile when you leave home. But, mother, the brief happiness is escaping me each letter I type. I will not elaborate, but not enough, the AMC has canceled me Rubicon. Fucking bastards.
Not much. She was tired of this season, at the airport. Because they have been too much over the summer. I hope that next year the thing is more calm, or at least more bearable. Because the crisis, changes, low, my mother and peritonitis, pregnancy, the insolence and the fucking shuttle, have brought me down the road of bitterness. Until now I always could tell my little Satan would make me laugh and distracted from time to time, but leave you to know what will become of him next year.
Well, no more. I feel that this post is not going anywhere. I want to talk about things I can not yet speak. And I want to mention to things we never stopped talking. So here I stay. I would love to adopt a dog, indeed. But my parents do not want.
I leave there. Or leave you there, which reads. Or do not let anyone. This is desert. If not passed, and I did not pass.
Auf wiedersehen.
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