survived.
I took a boy to the army. I decided, when he wasn’t, to remove the cosmetics.
Plus the day I hugged ice cream - the throat is not whispering like a child.
I sat all day behind the comp - my eyes were tired and red.
After seeing all this, my mom decided that I was being killed because of the guy, until I became sick.
She took decisive measures... sent me to the village for a weekend with the words “nothing, daughter... you run there, you breathe, you bite a green onion... you can’t kiss anyway now.”
The pipet.