P toilet trying to guess if I notice on the face, clothes, gestures, if I see pint of foreign strolling leisurely, stress-free folder or notebook. I'm sorry to read, but I raise my head from time to time, I feel observed or lose my living space and the safety of my hand into the bag.
Tired of watching everything what I'm getting, I think they will do both. At the time, location, and what I miss. Sad news reaches me sink the soul for hours, and other cheerful illusion multiply by miles. I see pictures, new, to try to reflect some of what I'm living. Also old, who preside over my wall and my computer. My life in little space.
For attention, but people keep the pace frantic, and I'm taking baby steps in the past.
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