From the diary of the Nuclear Energy Act
2 years, yes, two years.
will happen to everyone asking "Who knows where I'll be in two years? Who will I be? Will work?" And all "was" possible ...
Most of the time are not cosmic quirements. Rather questions who come out with friends, or perhaps over coffee ... and drink after you've forgotten already more than essertele asked.
But not always.
happens sometimes, a few times, fortunately, to think that the future is not only entertainment in the boredom of an afternoon.
happens to think about the future because it can be awfully difficult to imagine today, because the fear is always the enemy par excellence: the fear that the memory does not take as hard as you promise and promises to do, fear that the time scarred and worn to deteriorate. All the soul, love, bonds of a certain degree-as someone called them.
happens when you know that certain passages do not walk around your house, some laughter will not fill your room, not some smiles to kiss your pillow ... two years.
But in the end, after all, a bit 'of the brain's left! And I thank him, and we hold on you, because he knows that time flies when you want it, that the fears pass, if you want, all or nothing is forever ... if you want.
And you roll up your sleeves! The clock is ticking! To manage them better!
If you want it!
2 years, yes, two years.
will happen to everyone asking "Who knows where I'll be in two years? Who will I be? Will work?" And all "was" possible ...
Most of the time are not cosmic quirements. Rather questions who come out with friends, or perhaps over coffee ... and drink after you've forgotten already more than essertele asked.
But not always.
happens sometimes, a few times, fortunately, to think that the future is not only entertainment in the boredom of an afternoon.
happens to think about the future because it can be awfully difficult to imagine today, because the fear is always the enemy par excellence: the fear that the memory does not take as hard as you promise and promises to do, fear that the time scarred and worn to deteriorate. All the soul, love, bonds of a certain degree-as someone called them.
happens when you know that certain passages do not walk around your house, some laughter will not fill your room, not some smiles to kiss your pillow ... two years.
But in the end, after all, a bit 'of the brain's left! And I thank him, and we hold on you, because he knows that time flies when you want it, that the fears pass, if you want, all or nothing is forever ... if you want.
And you roll up your sleeves! The clock is ticking! To manage them better!
If you want it!
0 comments:
Post a Comment