Friends tell me why don’t I blog that much, specially when they listen to some of my stories or things I might call adventures. I don’t really know why, sometimes I feel like I’m just a bubble. A bubble with a very long life time, waiting for some random moment to burst to get out all the memories, to talk. That near-bursting moment comes a lot, but, veeery veeery rarely that it bursts. When it does, either I’m with the wrong person or with just no person at all.





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