i do love highways.
when i feel desperate, i use to come down there and watch.
all the things in this world, that got trafficked, pass there.
i love the big trucks and night neon lights, that always still.
i am a good mediator.
i know, that every person desires a different thing and goal.
an upfront character, a girl from the next door, a mercenary.
probably, sex, emotional fireworks and killing the day are the
best things (and only things) that i ever personally, good at.
there is not a single mercy in a world mercenary.
he scares the shit our of you and makes you fight for air.
you always have to be good at lies and keep a track of it.
i own a half of Chanel Greece runway dresses.
but i spend my off days with my favorite guys,
eating noodles in a cheap tavern, throwing all my heels
to the bottom of the closet. and it feels so damn relief.
my professional duty is to tell people, they will be okay.
knowing, that okay is the furthest thing they would end up with.
breathing for air, where there is always sand and southern wind.
but it is okay.
it is okay not to be me.