Wait, wait, wait, not yet, it was not time yet, not quite, not quite, just a little minute, just one more, please, just that little minute please?
The corners of his colar would just point towards the sky every time he got as excited as now. Oh boy, such glory, such glory, such glory....
Oh, wooow, wooow, wooow...
Even though each moment was filled with excitement, he sometimes had the feeling that the life he was living was a rather replaceable one. Why him, what was so special about the way he saw things? Probably not very much actually?
Oh, wait, wait, not yet, do not let this moment pass....
(Please stay tuned as this little fragment will very likely be replaced by a completely different story...)



ohh... hmm.

(are his pants falling off?)

: D
(I think they might be)

he's a thug.
don't playa hate.

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This page contains a single entry by Witold published on July 2, 2003 8:36 AM.

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