domingo, 27 de diciembre de 2015

Sunday morning.


It is Sunday morning.

These days are days where people think about more. 

These are days where there is reheated pizza and you regret of things you did, or you did not.

They say Sundays are days where you don't take out your pyjama, days to go to eat an ice cream in the evening.

Days of hearing the same song that you end up hating.

Days of family meals.

Days to go to your village and days of sunglasses.

Days of  "Nothing happens to me" but that shouts "Everything happens to me, hugh me"


It is Sunday. It is a beautiful Sunday.


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