For Everson Castro a those, sheet of paper Imagines, therefore, prostrado ahead of one escravinha any of blank paper that would only serve to it to print any pertaining to school work, or simply to joke a music cipher in case that you knew to touch, for example, an old violo. It is calmed reading, we do not deal with here an other people’s metaphor to any meaningless aluso, then we will know all of the functionality of this simple ones to think. All we have doubts human existenciais instigantes, that resvalam in those things of the type ' ' of where we came? ' ' , ' ' for where we go? ' ' , or, even though, ' ' how is reached the happiness in this world of irremediable sufferings? ' ' , thus we think sufficiently about true the sensible one (if it is that it exists) for our humble lives. I think that we could give thanks to deuses, therefore to live confers so great responsibility, that deuses would not have the courage that we have to fight for something so provisory. Where this rests in everything, the paper of the religions? Where it is the paper of the deities that (I assume) we invent our necessities in accordance with preementes physicist-spirituals? Not yet we can arrive the conclusive answers on so simple quarrels, but, certainly, we have conditions to think of suggestive form. While I write I think, in how much time still I have to live in this world that as much I love, that as much I long for and how many sufferings wait still me in this to walk free among the gardens of lamentations that ei to face. Thus many questions only sobraram to be answered, however, I played them outside. They had been dispersed to the deep one of the dark room. .

I had fear of being insufficient, and when the hour arrived to consummate the love, he did not obtain to give account of the message. Distrusts of adolescent, of which much mature man never becomes free itself. I know there. The head of people has of these things. Fancies of more, certezas of less. The times that I imagined myself in the penumbra of the garden of the house of it, under of the window, reciting poetries had not been few and unweaving a rosary of phrases of love, while it suspirava and suspirava, with the lost eyes in the dotted night of stars, as Cirano made with its loved Roxane. Cirano also made as I.

As he was ugly excessively, it wrote the dialogues and it ordered a friend to recite them in low of the window of its muse. It only could give in what it gave and I, if I at that time had knowledge of the history of it, with certainty would have acted of another form. The amount of confidence lost by men during the issue is tremendous and pfizer viagra tablets influences the life period. The more is that, these capsules start to show results in few days. cheapest cialis online However, few men have low T level Testosterone is one of viagra levitra the most vital male sexual hormones, which helps maintain libido, sperm production, muscles, bone, and secondary sexual characteristics (pubic and body hair). Unhappiness due to relationship, and poor communication, and lack of interests towards co-partner also leads to obstruction of the blood flow and yields in good lasting erection.Kamagrapillrx.com provides you kamagra 100mg. kamagra oral jelly, kamagra polo and Kamagra soft tabs – all are known to be the best medicine for pfizer viagra samples male erectile issues but its use should be limited. It is in these hours that the Effect enters in consideration Butterfly. Good, as already he said, I had a friend that also Joo called itself. It worked in the assembly line, well next to it. I never confessed for it the desperate passion that I felt for its fellow worker. In the truth, I had shame to comment on the subject and perhaps it also at least distrusted of this. I do not know well what it was, but the fact is that it never came me to baila to speak of this with it until the day where I took courage and I passed it the poem so that it delivered it to it.

It found favour, laughed, scoffed of me, but without offending. Finally, he agreed gentily to delivering the poem for the girl. I was waiting to see in what it gave.