Where man flees rather than lend an ear, is the air in all its purity, bearing the flavors of life and existence will. Cold, dense, hermetic, struck fear the lack of listening, that’s what trying to talk the air that only the wind knew translate. He is a beast who does not learn the account because nothing is above him, apart from the time itself. It remains admirable greatness and we can only attempt a reduced our approach to human considerations to clear prose, a fantasy that we would palpable.
http://www.yohanterraza.com/
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