I'm sleeping, I sleep. I'm a genius, I note too, is evident from the excess, I am absolutely great, but sometimes sleep, too. So sleep, not much, to say you live about five hours, with more than five hours you can work, of course it is better to sleep six hours. With seven hours, the day that you sleep seven hours, you wake up with the whistle stopped and a tremendous will to live. Nor am I going to sleep ten hours, or twelve, that's wrong, if it happens in adolescence, or if you are very asshole, if anything ever thought you had to think. Squalid rewards of not knowing.
So I'm sleeping and the doorbell rings. The bell rings above, the department, because if the tone of someone below could be passed through the street and rang all the bells, to tease. But no, it's ringing up. Two rings, long, then one more.
I wake up, somewhat startled by the way, look at the time, are the half past three.
I go to the door, do not know why I wear shorts, I walked to the door in slow motion, trying not to tread softly.
Miro, despite the redundancy (redundancy has to be worth something) through the peephole in the door. Nothing dark. There is an automatic, in the light of the hallway. I think overnight stays on a minute, and then cut, five minutes or seven, if nobody on, something like that. I hope, next to the door, watching. Looking and nothing else.
Soon light, light. My heart beats very hard, as if somebody was pounding on his chest to see if I have a tile loose.
light comes on. No one. Sorry, no nobody. No one person. But there is one. There is a dog.
The Fox Terrier dog is a hard hair, big boy, brown and black. Sitting, the dog, facing my door. It has a trumpet, yeah, the dog, along one of its forelegs. No one else. Short
light. I hope. They spend a good three minutes, maybe five. The light comes on. There's the dog, there is the trumpet, all the same.
I open the door. I know it's a mistake, I know it's wrong, but I open the door. Now go out somewhere three types of knives, with guns, and I'm going to steal. I will burn with an iron face, not wanting to tell them where I keep the money. Although I have no iron, ironing I do not know, that should play to my favor.
open the door, waiting for the attack. But no, there is nobody. Nobody says' hands up ', or' be quiet because you burn. " No.
The dog raises his trumpet, with a front leg.
"Listen, dude, listen.
And it gets to play the trumpet. Close your eyes and plays with energy, with feeling, the sound bouncing off the walls of the narrow corridor. Start with the first notes of 'You are the sunshine of my life. " The sound of the trumpet caresses my soul, he plays well, the dog, the theme is really beautiful.
"Thanks" I said. This is a very sweet, and is the most heartfelt I've ever heard.
closed the door, I went to bed. So I asked a turn, because I think I have a drinking problem, doctor. Why I'm here.
So I'm sleeping and the doorbell rings. The bell rings above, the department, because if the tone of someone below could be passed through the street and rang all the bells, to tease. But no, it's ringing up. Two rings, long, then one more.
I wake up, somewhat startled by the way, look at the time, are the half past three.
I go to the door, do not know why I wear shorts, I walked to the door in slow motion, trying not to tread softly.
Miro, despite the redundancy (redundancy has to be worth something) through the peephole in the door. Nothing dark. There is an automatic, in the light of the hallway. I think overnight stays on a minute, and then cut, five minutes or seven, if nobody on, something like that. I hope, next to the door, watching. Looking and nothing else.
Soon light, light. My heart beats very hard, as if somebody was pounding on his chest to see if I have a tile loose.
light comes on. No one. Sorry, no nobody. No one person. But there is one. There is a dog.
The Fox Terrier dog is a hard hair, big boy, brown and black. Sitting, the dog, facing my door. It has a trumpet, yeah, the dog, along one of its forelegs. No one else. Short
light. I hope. They spend a good three minutes, maybe five. The light comes on. There's the dog, there is the trumpet, all the same.
I open the door. I know it's a mistake, I know it's wrong, but I open the door. Now go out somewhere three types of knives, with guns, and I'm going to steal. I will burn with an iron face, not wanting to tell them where I keep the money. Although I have no iron, ironing I do not know, that should play to my favor.
open the door, waiting for the attack. But no, there is nobody. Nobody says' hands up ', or' be quiet because you burn. " No.
The dog raises his trumpet, with a front leg.
"Listen, dude, listen.
And it gets to play the trumpet. Close your eyes and plays with energy, with feeling, the sound bouncing off the walls of the narrow corridor. Start with the first notes of 'You are the sunshine of my life. " The sound of the trumpet caresses my soul, he plays well, the dog, the theme is really beautiful.
"Thanks" I said. This is a very sweet, and is the most heartfelt I've ever heard.
closed the door, I went to bed. So I asked a turn, because I think I have a drinking problem, doctor. Why I'm here.
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