Where Can I Get My Chest Waxed In Paris

lina_ame @ 2009-07-25T02:08:00

When you have chosen the day when you came into the world, it was rainy
? Yes, that was it.
The cobblestones of the bridges was black and shiny, as you rain from heaven you were the drizzling rain, you've covered the single cell of the air, an element, an infection that covered the city with a water fog, rain in the early afternoon nap. It was the time after breakfast. The sky was obscured by solid, powder blue clouds, like a cork in a glass bottle in which the city seemed to be sitting there, solid. The high-rise areas, the skyscrapers rose up high in the clouds, they seemed to achieve. The old city had to be put back 100 years, the wet darkness crept into the narrow streets between the ancient stones of the houses. The outlines of the towers and Roofs on the blue-gray background of the sky reminiscent of the city, as represented in films about the industrial revolution. So unapproachable to leave, slowly degenerate. And you
rained continuously, in fine droplets. The water remained in the hair, the eyelashes, as if time stands still and the water is not moving. Everything seemed to be frozen. Only you have, you picked the right day.
And dreaming of better-defined locations, times, better choice. Your home is darker than the sky outside, plunged into the gray-blue light, the curtains do not dare to entrust themselves to the wind, the air is still. The air smells of rain. Of wet asphalt, for cars and of wet, rotting leaves. As is fitting for October is, you're dreaming. Your lungs faded without nicotine and tar, your hair falls in soft dark streaks on your perfect face, your cool skin like porcelain. Your eyelashes in the thick of sleep Bläuligkeit submerged. Your long fingers gently caress the neurotic poppies in the fields of Morpheus, on the fields of the sky is turquoise, the air is thin and clear. Soon you sink to the seabed, where the possible Sun only be a spot on the depth of the water is blue, you, on the soft sand of the sea floor.