Dormitory, ah who does not know how difficult it is to live a few twists and turns of a complicated life. Not difficult in a bad sense, just how we can live with a reconciling heart. The opportunity to be in a building with a fence barrier of all outside environments make us realize that life is not long. The high walls that restrict all meetings and longing do not make us abstinence to express our hearts. Hey! You are there, yes there! Do you know how long to miss my chest in the wall that limits us? I have entrusted my chance to taste with the stroke of fate. Being in a scope that ordered me to stay strong, tough, super. Is not that a secret supposed to be a woman?
But again, we know wherever the beautiful place is then always have a chance. Yes the chance to spill things up. Pouring everything through a variety of ways. We know that here we are tired and want to run as fast as we can, go where we want to go, let it continue until it stops at one point and will not hope to return. Entry into the dormitory environment keeps us trapped in a difficult sphere. Just go in and feel for yourself then we will know.
That is love. Growing though with space limitations, growing even with just the same fate streaks. Hostel. Witnesses mute blooming love. Ah sweet life in the high wall that limits between us. The rooms are mutually exclaimed when we try to contact one another. Even with a distance only limited by thatch. We are like roses when I start to gaze at each other, I've tried to trim it, because I realize in one wall with you the more make us apart. Because they grow up brutally. Fast and bushy. And I can not trim it that might only hurt my other body parts. The roots are so strong and strong as we are when we give each other a signal.
Only a song in a line that can limit the gaze, a forward movement of the path or when the line is able to reduce that sense. I had to stab each second as the feeling grew before it developed. Heads who think about unreasonable love or about the unfolding tale of fireworks like the new year's fireworks. The dormitory rooms bear witness to his heart's reverberation just to talk through the window fence. With a curtain that implies that the strength is longing.
Only the dining room has an infinite amount of time to meet, chatting and milking each other. Sick? Ah forget the hidden love pain. Spending time with you in the dining room is enough. Enough to answer that the opportunity is still there.
Four o'clock in the morning.
I liked the morning. How come? The body that questioned the longing was lying on a wooden couch, squeaking. Asking for answers, woke up with the step of the row meeting.
Ah morning. Always a waiting time. And saturday is always the day that is awaited. How come? I just found out that the memories of a week with you by staring in the breadth of the dining room can be brought home and stored in a frame.
There are memories that are stored, cared for and watered every holiday.
Though you say, you leave a longing on the fingerprints left in my dorm room window. But you're lying. In fact, I not only see your homes there, but also on the walls, on the sidelines, in the closet, in between the tables. Even I find your longing in the mirror, and the shadow of your face when I perform the ablution. Though you are only a distance from my position, but you only leave one night to relax outside the dorm. As simple as that.
If you know later, know that you have to take a big risk that I'm just going to be a women's hedge with great love, not with the brightest brain.