The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation. ‘I can’t do that. She were that miserable. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. And it's uncanny. You may have something to conceal, you may not.
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This video was uploaded to twincitieshomes.info on 22-09-2024 16:47:57