What I see now when I look out the window?
No stars, just dark, dark, blue sky. A couple of lighted windows shine toward me and with much effort I can see the outlines of a house.
And I see myself as I look at myself. Look I happy? I laugh at me? Or I laugh at me?
I see my Room. Quite easily my white, large wooden door, which certainly have as the house is over 100 years old.
I see that my closet is open. And because I can not push my chair all the way back, I know that all the clothes on the floor behind me.
My little brave lamp towards me seems. It shines day and night for me, never lets me down.
I see my red walls. I love this color. Nevertheless, I miss the writing, who once graced these walls.
"No one is illegal!" or "Fascism is not an opinion but a crime!" .
These words, sentences, Lines were somehow a part of me that somehow a piece of me.
Yes, you mean sure, I could simply scribble back wall full.
is not that easy for me. She is young, unused, stahlendschön and untouched. And this I will take her virginity yet.
What I still can see in the window, my big bed where I sleep alone. It's beautiful. can only release it every night of laundry and mountains make up stuff. It invites just always throw everything on it.
The last thing I see, or do what I want is the picture frame, inside with the images of my friends. He sits on my bed and I knew that they care of myself.
such world, look in the other room and tell me what you see. Is it beautiful? Or you look in the faces of the people living there? Are they beautiful?
Yes, well yes it's all about outward appearances. Otherwise you could get it's inside look at ... Nonsense. Mainly from the outside everything is beautiful. It looks like the inside is shit.
Bye. Beloved world.
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