What Do They Do In The Hospital For Swollen Liver

The country is real Love is not (im) possible

Why love is not possible.

We are a world liquid flowing in a hurry.

We bottles capable enough to hold our race scattered in streams.

Love is not possible.

I watch him on continuous rolls around a supermarket checkout.

portions.

4 jumps in the pan.

resealable packs.

Nothing fresh, just stuff a long shelf life.

Nothing basil plant, but leaves in pan.

There are garlic, onions and diced carrots frozen but ready to use.

The categorical imperative is the speed of the duty of eating. The practicality of microwave oven which evaporates the ice. Elimination of waste.

The search for the pleasure lies elsewhere, somewhere.

In women who do not have, in men too demanding to be held next.

In a family that has grown tired, in a hollow freedom.

monads seem consumerist.

Inside a trolley case:

a pack of fresh pasta, the tomatoes, some onions (whole grapes), salad, beer.

E 'a he.

lover of pasta at all costs, it seems.

It seems at first sight a spaghetti with friends. Maybe with game on TV.

If it were not for the voice of racing across the finish line of his delay.

"I'm here, can I help you?"

She smiles, even breathless.

He has already taken everything, just missing a bunch of flowers

While evaporated light as a caress, a kiss, asks her to take the bulb.

She jumps looking flowers that is not in the end you face the facts:

"There are none, got another deck?"

"No, if there are tulips do not take anything"

"Why did you set the tulips?"

"Why do you love tulips"

Love is not (im) possible.
It certainly surprised.