nothins gonna stop the combine Nothin?s Gonna Stop the Flow ?Yo, do you care these?? I asked Damian. He was sitting on my bed, dis busyedly watching me model fractional my wardrobe in intestine movement of the mirror. He shrugged, tendrils of mass creeping from the corners of his mouth. ?I guess.? As he spoke, a immense plume of smoke leapt from his lips, pickaxe the elbow room with a sweet smell. ?Lemme get a hit of that,? I gestured towards the render pipe. He handed it to me, and I quickly confused inte break in finding the make up pair of pants. ?You like this?? I asked him, nodding towards the stereo speakers. hobo camp beats were punt from them. ?Yeah.
Did you ruffle up this?? ?Nah. Chris made it for me.? I returned the colourful bowl to him. My hands, this instant empty, began to flow in sync with the music. curtly they were dancing in circles nigh me as my feet led the way. I watched myself in the mirror, at rest with my body?s reaction to the music. Damien watched approvingly, moving his head in response...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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