Once a week without any message for you. You walk from the markings.
No until you a message. In my mind, but only if you think all this for any meaning.
Just like a TV show, always expect it will have a perfect ending, but only on the final report on the sequel, in the sequel, everything is different.
Wait seven days for me, for me it is a seven centuries, every second of all is so clear, every second is in forgetting.
Seven days, seven centuries, seven parts. Seven days, write you seven diary. For you. Tell you, I never hate you. In your heart, and not only me, maybe not in your heart, I place on. Everything that I just wishful thinking.
To love sincerity, is also a kind of mistakes.
