Hard lie. Maybe even on the highway? What is this plant? Difficult to remove his right hand from be

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Ancient Romans shared the life of a man in four parts: up to twenty years - a teenager (adulescens) to forty - a young man (Juvena) to sixty - a man (vir), up? - The old man (Senex).
Hard lie. Maybe even on the highway? What is this plant? Difficult to remove his right hand from behind, bent nose to the plant. That although what užuosčiau! Festival of the nose as a young man. Masticate the Indians. Strings rue. Cross through the palm of your hand. Straight arm back: pavers. I kind of town? Figure Kolkhoz million in the village? I turned his head: house, yard, city yard ... Which rue hide in the nursery, Ploughing? It's getting those in your novels, do, think, million do. Post here ... What is writing? Here reality. Lying on the cement bricks, made eye contact head ... Does it hurt? No. It hurts leg. Swollen million and blistered. I walked. I went as a hippie. I went to bed and fell asleep. Šniurkšteliu nose like a dog: Ruta sensed. The rue kindergarten and helped head. What is this yours, Rama, the novel? The - complete misanthropy, entropy and kenotafijos? Oh, you say little Vlad - not Volodya, oh, Iskar coat, the worst that sorrow. If negailėtų, it would not be so painful. Rolls over on his back. Listened. This Vilnius. Vilnius summer night. How do I know? I know.
Some Vilnius yard, some kind of summer, some I lie here. The pocket will, no doubt, half a cigarette. Half of the already found it. There are matches. Complete amnesia. Three or four smoke? Raising three. And after the third shoot. If they will not fire, nusipersiu. It did not occur Nobody, but nobody nenusiperdė. How much can be the hour of the night? Why am I here? But if I'm here ... it's so. Is it wanted? Let others think, if I wanted to? Did anyone wants ugly? January
Night at mid-term. I know that now it seems to me that the light soon. To make your morning coolness ... I am an eternal lad. One, as always. million Here, as a yard, from which the moon is not visible. It can just feel it. Even a day in the yard will not see the moon. This Vilnius, Vilnius as the budavotas? Where is yours, Rama's mind? Pakavotas skull. million
Head suspicious "pure." Nasri is not sick, but in the eyes of darkness because their eyes closed. The body lying on the cement. Turns into a half spin. None of the window is not lit. Not done anything wrong. Bliaudamas million invaded. Fair. I walked. I turned and falls. Apparently, I knew that there is growing rue. Which Vilnius yard? Ooo ... such a lot of the old town. For the old town here, I clear. What do I do in the morning? I sit on the parapet, and sit back while someone will come and say, "If you accept the Buddha, kill him." Okay, if you say. And if you will not? And if griebsis million action? Misguided and unenforceable? It's a shame to see this. I do nothing more. Not even look.
Why am I so tired? Why do I feel myself only? Why I myself sad? I'm probably dead. Maybe actually died, and then only pretended to live? Sometimes even the most to believe that I live. And šaipiausi: Rama, why are you not a man? You really like a man. What are you missing? The head still has, the more hair on his head. Hands to feet to the body that is something the Quakers, švarkščia, FESTIVAL, removable. Rama, is that you can do something and cheat? Maybe somebody million will believe that you are a man, well, say, the old man, they're all so wise One variant. Respectable old man they keep it alive. million Who are they? Here's philosophizing manages time. I wonder how many minutes I have thought? There are times that long. Come to think think and even time does not come.
Amnesia. Amnesia strikes each. And now me. I went somewhere. In the war of the prison, the madhouse of? Similar to the madhouse. When? Now, when I write? Not before some ten years ago. It may be: ten years ago. It may not be available. Not to me. Another, by the way, I disapprove. Pleasure is not very nice.
- If you write such nonsense, the less Grow Oldenburg, as you say, What is there Trakai Lithuania ... More look into the darkness, the moon for you? Do not worry. You write, I promise that I will read. Maybe I will be useful.
How is this awkward million laugh from serious things? Clever million say and do. By what leads serious stuff? Now here I am writing and I do not know, but my character Ramas, experiencing first hand. Not very good for him. He was worse.
It is believed, however, that will be better. Thought, but not believed. Because there are things that have been and will be, they are ugly and disgusting, the only way to go - not to think about them, but they have since be gone.
Where we talked? Sitting in the sun at the House Oginski, backs supported so with straight legs ... not ... there are people that do not want to hate, let others hate ... And why the Oginski hut to rašnamio, and where the police? The militia was said though. Let them ... maybe it was spring, and maybe a routine winner so requested, and not particularly famous svoringas, but good